


Splatoon - Crimson Gaze

by MyNameIsMarkus



Category: Splatoon
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anger, Callie hecking dies, Corruption, F/F, F/M, Grief/Mourning, Heavy Angst, Insanity, Mental Breakdown, Mental Instability, Octo Racism, Probably a few more once chapters get put up, Sniper Rifle, Swearing, Warmonger - Freeform, hero charger
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-12
Updated: 2020-06-17
Packaged: 2021-03-01 20:21:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 10
Words: 40,993
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23612935
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MyNameIsMarkus/pseuds/MyNameIsMarkus
Summary: You know what people say about madness. All it takes is One Bad Day. But for some, it takes a little more. It takes One Bad Shot.Marie didn't mean to kill her. She never did. Her plan was never supposed to go this wrong.But it did.Callie is dead.And now she must suffer the consequences.
Relationships: Agent 3/Agent 8 (Splatoon), Marina/Pearl (Splatoon)
Comments: 20
Kudos: 58





	1. Tide Goes Out

**Author's Note:**

> DeviantART Link: https://www.deviantart.com/masterperrymartin/art/Splatoon-Crimson-Gaze-Chapter-1-827937305

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The final boss is at hand. The kidnapped Squid Sister has been found, hidden behind garish garb and brain-warping shades. As Agent 4 fights Octavio in the arena, Marie plans to save Callie once and for all - unaware of the cost she must pay.

“Hey, uh, Sheldon?”  
  
“Yeah?”  
  
“You think...you think, if we never did this final Splatfest, me and...her, things would have turned out differently? Would we even be here, right now?”  
  
“I can’t say for sure. Though, maybe if Callie won, I’d be driving her down here to save her cousin, heh heh, heh...s-sorry. Bad timing. We’ll arrive in a few minutes. Let your Agent know!”  
  
“Got it! Agent 4! I’ll be there soon! Hold out just a little longer!”  
  
“ _ **...If only you knew what fate will befall her. If only you knew what I have in store for you...little moth.**_ ”  
  
**Perry Martin presents;  
  
SPLATOON: CRIMSON GAZE**  
  
===  
  
“Yo DJ! Turn ‘em into Calamari!”  
  
“Eat THIS, yo!”  
  
Agent 4 yelped as she narrowly missed a thrown fist, collapsing to the floor with a slam. She rolled out of the way of an exploding Takoyaki bomb, hissing as some of the splashed magenta gunk singed her skin, then jumped to her feet and opened fire upon the flying fist that screamed towards her. A barrage of green ink came streaming forth from the Hero Shot, forcing the hand back with extreme force. It smacked into the OctoKing, sending the wretched DJ inside it spiralling around...and throwing the Squid Sister on top off balance.  
  
It had been the adventure of a lifetime. A young Inkling girl, by name of Gail, had just set foot into the wonderful Inkopolis Square, the freshest place in town, ready to shoot up some turf and make a name for herself on the colour-coated battlefield. But she caught her, out of the corner of her eye. The tall, silent figure, dressed in regal kimono. Twiddling a parasol clutched between her thin fingers. Her tentacles a deep grey with mint green tint, and a sad, lost look in her eyes. Her name was Marie, and she told Gail of the disastrous times; the Octarian scourge had begun anew. The Great Zapfish had gone missing, robbing the city of its main source of power. And most importantly to her, Callie, her cousin in arms, was missing.  
  
And so it was to be that Gail would slip into Agent fatigues and travel the Octo Canyon with the Sister, kicking bass and chewing gum, battling great foes and saving Mini-Zapfish all of the while. The duo’s rampage had finally led them here, Cephalon HQ. To the deepest parts of the Canyon, where the wretched Octavio resided. And there, clad in ghastly leather gear, a pair of brain-altering hypnoshades secured to her face, was the cousin Gail was sent to save. Callie Cuttlefish, one half of the great Squid Sisters...barking commands to a psychopath DJ.  
  
Marie watched it all, inside the hovertruck. She was sitting in the passenger seat, a small gremlin child known as Sheldon behind the wheel. Headset on, eyes glued to the small screen on the dashboard. She felt her panic rise within her, and she barked, “Callie, it’s me! Your cousin, Marie! Try to remember!” she knew the words would echo through Agent 4’s headset, blasting out across the expanse towards her.  
  
Callie refused to yield, shaking her head, “Oh, I remember you, cousin! The one who-NNNGH!” a spasm, before she continued, “Left me in the dust! You with ALL the breaks!”  
  
“Ms Callie, please!” Agent 4 commanded, “Fight that stuff! We’re gonna get you home!”  
  
“I AM-NNG!” another glitch, “HOME!”  
  
“Heh heh...” Octavio laughed, his voice deep and sickeningly slimy, “Y’all really think you can just talk your way outta this? I’ve got my beats planted deep in her skull, yo, thanks to those shades. My pride and joy, awww yeah. ‘Course, not like she had anything in that pretty little head of her’s to begin with, heh heh!”  
  
Marie resisted the temptation to smash the screen to bits in rage.  
  
“You’re not winning this, you hear me!?” Agent 4 shouted, an air of pride to her oncoming boast, “I’ve wasted your entire army up to here! I’ll barrel through you like the rest!”  
  
“Oh, such NNNNHgh bravado!” Callie shivered, “But your song ends HERE! Bodyguard! Where is my bodyguard?!”  
  
“...Bodyguard?” Marie asked in shock, “I’ve never heard of a-”  
  
“ _ **And here we...go.**_ ”  
  
Agent 4 had a few seconds of confusion, then maybe all of one of panic as she dodged the murky Splashdown sailing downwards towards the stone cold arena. She skidded across it like a stone across a pond, tumbling head over heels before finally stopping some distance away. She got up, Hero Shot in hand, and looked at her attacker. In a flurry of muck, there was...an Octoling? But this one was male! Male Elites didn’t exist...did they? This one wore the same Elite armour as the others, however; a metal chestplate across a black tank top, and a belt over leggings ending in black boots. He wore a single tentacle, sucker pointing outward, draped across his head and down his face. There was a red tint to the black sunglasses that all Elites wore, and a scowl resting on what of his face could be seen.  
  
“Greetings, Inkling,” the Elite spoke in perfect Inkling, dusting off his Roller and readjusting his glasses. He glared at the Agent, “My name is Aldus. I protect...the Octo Queen.”  
  
“The...the what?!” Agent 4 almost stifled a laugh, staring towards him with a weird look on her face, “Buddy, you’re you’re not like anything else I’VE seen!”  
  
“Is it because I am male?” Aldus asked, borderline offended. Or at least, he was approaching it. Agent 4 couldn’t tell from his blanketed expression, so she simply nodded. Aldus shook his head, “...Yes, I suppose that does make me...exotic. Male Elites are rare. It makes us special. Worthy of guarding the Octo Queen with our lives. We are on the verge of winning with our plan...” he stomped to prove his point, before assuming a battle stance, bent low and feral, “We will NOT allow you to foil it!”  
  
“Yeah, what he said, yo!” Octavio cackled, wildly flailing at his controls, “That city’s as good as mine, after everythin’ you scudsuckers did!” he leaned up, looking towards the stage on top of his vessel, “Let’s get ‘em, Cal!”  
  
“DROP THAT SPICY WASABI BEAT, DJ!” Callie screamed, posing dramatically, “Put an end to this!”  
  
With a cackle from its operator, the Octo King sputtered to life once more, fuming and clearing ink from the arena with a shockwave. Agent 4 recoiled from the wave, skidding backwards and shielding herself from the blast. The ghastly song started up again, with Callie singing along in time with the vocals, dancing in a wild manner all of the while. She managed to see the pink Splat Bomb sail through the sky, straight on her position. She inked the ground and swam away, watching it harmlessly detonate and cover a small portion of the ground. Aldus growled and flicked his Roller, sending more ink towards Agent 4 that she dodged. He thrust forward like one would thrust a sword, striking the off-guard Agent 4 in the chest and knocking her Hero Hoodie loose.  
  
Agent 4 deigned to panic - this wasn’t the first time she had lost it - and limped as fast as she could around the arena, firing off her Hero Shot at the Octoling. Aldus caught a good portion of it, a stinging hiss escaping him as the ink burned on his body, but he raised his Roller to deflect the rest. All of the while, the Octo King flew overhead, peppering the arena with Burst Bombs and exploding Takoyaki. Agent 4 swore she could hear Callie laughing maniacally as she unleashed the barrage, a sea of magenta ink in every direction as the bombs burst in sync with the music. The Octo King reared up and, with a waterfall of ink pouring out of the bottom of the infernal craft, charged forward, as did Aldus with his Roller.  
  
There was a glorious swish sound as the Hero Hoodie finally materialised on Agent 4’s body. Laughing in triumph, she effortlessly dodged the oncoming ink, inking and swimming around the arena, taking potshots at Aldus and dodging more of the bombs. Aldus could only growl, way out of the reach of the Hero Shot, screaming in pain as a splash of her green ink slammed into his face and blasted the Roller out of his hands. He stumbled in confusion, grabbing his head, and Agent 4 went for it. She inked and sprinted over to his Roller, picking it up and swinging with all of her might. It may have been the same ink colour, but it was still a massive steel paint roller slamming into a thin frame. Aldus was catapulted across the arena and landed with a thump in the middle of it, groaning in pain and daring not to get up. He was winded.  
  
Throwing the Roller to the side, Agent 4 could now focus on the Octo King once more. Octavio growled, as did Callie, and they sent another barrage of bombs. Agent 4 shot down the Takoyaki, dodged the burst bombs, even kicked one towards the floored Aldus for good measure. The force of the explosion certainly messed with him, even if the ink colour meant no harm was done. Octavio wound back and slammed a tentacle into a big red button on the dashboard. Both of the giant metal fists launched out of the bot, and towards the Agent. But she knew what to do. Opening fire on the two fists, they were eventually forced back, slamming into the Octo King at high speed. There was a shriek as Octavio was bounced out, landing with a slam in the arena. Aldus tried to get up to assist, but Agent 4 kicked him back to the ground and opened fire on the DJ. The ink built up and then, like a firework was tied to him and set off, he was launched back into the Octo King, shaking the entire craft. He was dazed, little seagulls circling his head, while Callie was knocked off-balance and, for once, stopped dancing to catch her breath.  
  
“She’s good. But, this isn’t working...” Marie gasped, her face pressed against the orbiting van window, “She can smack Octavio around all day long, it ain’t gonna save my cousin!” she paused. A million options lined up in her head. Only one was even close to feasible. And it was one she knew was going to be the riskiest move she ever took. But it was all she could think of. Sighing deeply, she rummaged around in the footwell of the van...and brought out her weapon of choice, “...I’ve got to do something.”  
  
Sheldon turned slightly, staring at the rifle now in Marie’s lap. It was the Mark 1 Hero Charger, Cuttlefish’s original model. Sheldon had made some improvements once he got the blueprints; a more reliable feed system, less obstructive sights, the whole shebang. He had given that to Agent 4 to help her in her quest, however. What lay in Marie’s hands was the original, carry handle and all. It was old. It kicked like a mule. And when properly tuned, it hit like one.  
  
“Marie...” Sheldon said cautiously, a hint of unease to his voice, “What’re you planning, exactly?”  
  
Marie sighed, pawing at the neon green and black charger in her lap, “It’s the only way. She can’t break the control over her shades herself. I gotta get them off, no matter what it takes.”  
  
“Marie, that’s a sniper rifle!” Sheldon, somewhat rightfully, objected, ”That thing has no problem takin’ out a kid at 260 units! It’s lethal at point blank range!”  
  
“I’ve got that covered...” Marie grumbled. With a hiss, she detached the ink tank on the rear, and loaded in her own. It had a strip of ribbon, the same colour as her ink, tied around it, “Low Tide Ink. It’s...it’s mine. If this won’t make her come to her senses, nothing will. It’s Now or Never! Keep it steady, Sheldon. I got this.”  
  
“Marie, no!” Sheldon yelled in protest, but it was too late. Throwing open the sunroof, Marie was clambering, somewhat gracelessly, out onto the roof and onto the stage the van held. He groaned, “Aawwwww!”, and focused on keeping the van steady.  
  
There was a faint wind as Marie clambered on stage, Charger clutched tightly in her hands. Her two hearts thumped like crazy. This was insane. This was THE gamble. But it was the only way. As the van came close to the OctoKing, the fight beneath stopped. Both Agent and the floored Elite were staring up at this scene. Even Octavio, admittedly too dazed to notice right now, had let the Octo King hover in place. Marie cleared her throat, took a deep breath, “...Callie.”  
  
The smug smile on Callie’s frozen face grew wider; “Cousin. Here to see your little mule lose in person?”  
  
“I’m here...” Marie looked down, her voice quiet. Then, she sprang to life, aiming the rifle with all of her finesse, towards those infernal shades, “To save you!” This was it. With a click, she pulled the trigger.  
  
Nothing.  
  
There was supposed to be a beautiful stream of ink, flying from the barrel. It would collide with the shades and take them off like paint thinner. She’d come to, they’d sing the song, save the day! ...So, why was a rumbling, gurgling sound coming out of the weapon? Why was it vibrating violently, the sound of a Kettle firing up, but getting even higher pitched? Marie looked down at the weapon, “...What th-”  
  
KA-BOOM! A wretched, railgun-like barrage of ink erupted from the barrel of the Charger, sending a howling bellow into the air. Marie’s vision became a whirlwind of ink and shattered plastic, and time seemed to slow as she recoiled backwards, shards of what used to be the Charger’s barrel pelting her and the van’s floor. She wasn’t able to see the hypercharged shot scream through the air towards Callie, its speed like that of a raging pantherfish. Callie, in all of the commotion, had but the faintest moment to glare towards the shot and mutter, “huh?” before it hit her in the left side of her face.  
  
There was a clatter as the Hypnoshades, cleaved in twain, hit the stage floor.  
  
And then a splat as about half of her brain followed them.  
  
The blast was immense, shaking the Octo King backwards violently as the shot continued and punched a hole clean through the stage behind Callie. It was enough to jolt Octavio out of his stupor. He grumbled,“What the shell was that?!” and he slammed down onto the button that turned on the camera pointing at his stage, “Callie, report!“ No response. No response for a good while. And as the camera feed came into focus, his expression became confused. “...Callie?”  
  
Marie had finally recovered from her recoil. She got up, slowly, seething as she pulled a shard of Charger out of her arm. She stared down at the broken Charger; the barrel was completely blown out, missing with sharp, jagged shards lining where it connected to the gun. The ink tank was likewise blown out, with no trace of it but for a few fragments left screwed into the weapon. Even the sights were snapped free, lying in pieces on the floor beside her. She growled, looking up at Callie. She stopped. Her face grew into one of despair. She dropped the remains of the Charger.  
  
Callie was dead.  
  
She had stumbled backwards and slid down the wall after the hit. She was slumped on the ground, body arched down and to the left. Her limbs limp, her eyes rolled, her jaw slack. One of her head tentacles had detached from the shot, and lay in a puddle of ink by her side. But there was no ignoring the massive hole in her head. It tunnelled through, leaving chunks of flesh and brain visible. Tears leaked from her remaining eye, ink pooled in her agape mouth and dribbled down her chin. She made not a sound, beyond a brief gurgle as her body spasmed in its final throes. It took Marie a little while to even take in the information...but the grief came fast.  
  
“...CALLIE!”  
  
“...Ahahahahahahaha!” Octavio was sent into a laughing fit, tentacles clasped around his...torso(?) as it ached with joy, “How’s THAT for the Tide goin’ out?! Whoo! Awright, I think it’s time to wrap this up! Let’s break it down, yo! FIRE!!!”  
  
Marie barely had time to look away from the gruesome sight, hearts pounding, head on fire, before she saw the two fists of the Octo King barrel towards her. They slammed into the van, totally wrecking it, and sending it on a downward spiral to the ground. Marie screamed and slammed into the stage wall, mirroring her cousin, grabbing ahold of the rigging for dear life. There was an unholy screech, a crash and a jolt...then silence.  
  
===  
A splat, and the sound of Agent 4 screaming in agony. That’s what Marie heard as she came to.  
  
Awakening with a gasp and a round of coughs, she shot her eyes open and took a look at the scenery surrounding her. She was lying on the arena Agent 4 had been fighting on mere moments ago, the burning wreckage of the van surrounding all but the direction forward. Sheldon lay among the wreckage, amazingly unhurt considering the state Marie was in. She gasped in pain as she felt a shard of...something, in her leg. She tried to get up, but the pain was too great. Screaming in agony, her breath shallow, she instead dragged herself forward across the cold, unforgiving concrete.  
  
Out of the raging fires, came a stumbling Agent 4. She was yelling in pain, crying too, clutching her eye, a thin trail of green ink snaking behind her. She collapsed to her hands and knees, struggling to breath; her eye was gone, a hole where it once remained, dribbling ink down her face and onto the floor. How did this happen? How did any of this happen?!  
  
Grunting, groaning, Marie dragged herself to her knees and crawled to the centre of the arena. She called out, her throat hoarse; “C-Callie...Callie!”  
  
“Lookin’ for someone, Agent 2?” came the DJ’s sickly voice. Marie craned her neck up with all of her strength to see the Octo King hovering over her. The male Elite was by his side, his expression still blank. Octavio chuckled, “Here, have her!” and tilted the Octo King forward, just a bit. There was a tumbling sound before the body of Callie rolled over the edge of the stage, landing with a crunch on the concrete. Marie screamed, but continued to look up at the DJ, who began to chuckle, “Look at that...I thought I’d hadda find a way to dispose of her once she outlived her uses. But, HA! One came right to me! Talk about an own goal!”  
  
“You murdered her...” Aldus gasped, “After two years...in cold blood...” he threw off the fake shock and cracked a smug smile, “I do believe we call this a victory. One handed to us, perhaps, but, now you see the power of the Octarian scourge!” he looked down at the four below him; the dead Sister, the wounded other, the eyeless Agent and the unconscious...thing. He nodded, tapping Octavio on the shoulder, “Master Octavio. We must leave.”  
  
“Bu-wah?!” Octavio jumped in his seat, a look of confusion across his face. He gestured to the defeated opponents, “They’re right there, yo! I could splat ‘em now! Right here!”  
  
“And what would that accomplish?” Aldus sneered angrily, “Apart from limiting your fun? A flash of fire and that is...it...” he gestured as if a flame was snuffed out. He turned to the DJ, “Do you not want them to suffer, in the new age you will create? To know all of their efforts were meaningless and futile? They have already sewn the seed...” he pointed to the Squid Sister’s corpse, mangled and lifeless, “Let it grow.”  
  
“...Heh heh!” the DJ cackled wretchedly, slapping a tentacle onto the Elite’s back, “I love that idea! You’ve got that spark in ya, kid!” he turned to the Agents, “Well, sorry to keep y’all waitin’ but we reached the conclusion! I think we’ve proved the point. I’ve got a lot of plannin’ to do now, and I gotta keep this here Zapper safe! That, and...clean my ship. It’s got someone else’s blood all over it!” With a hearty laugh and a few shifted levers, the Octo King spluttered to life and zoomed into the sky, slowly hidden from view, “Later, losers!”  
  
The room grew quiet. All that remained was the gentle ambience of the Domes, otherwordly sounds in comparison to all else known. The lights dimmed, Marie shadowed in blue and white lights as she stared at her cousin’s body, twisted and splattered. Her expression what remained of her face looked so...peaceful, as if she was just sleeping. It was no mere rest, however. The Respawn Pad couldn’t handle this partial deconstruction. She was gone. And in her shock, a shock she had never felt before, she froze in fear of a reaction.  
  
Meanwhile, behind her, a small figure slowly stirred. Sheldon grabbed his head as he finally came to, groaning, “Ooourgh...my head! What happened?” he blinked a few times through cracked lenses as he looked around. The first thing he saw in his blurry vision was Agent 4, stumbling and scarred. He yelped, rushing towards her, “Agent 4! Are you okay?”  
  
“Do I look okay?!” Agent 4 snapped in response. She could barely stand, let alone walk. She doubled over, hand not even bothering to clutch at her empty eye socket anymore, “I-I can’t see...the p...the pain...”  
  
“I...think you’ve lost an eye!” Sheldon exclaimed in shock,. He turned and ran back to the van’s remains. He knew there were some supplies, hidden under the stage. He dragged out what he could, sighing that at least some of it avoided the flames, and rushed back over to Agent 4, “It’s okay, I’ve got some bandages! It’s gonna be fine...” he whimpered, wrapping the white gauze around Agent 4’s head. It was a poor substitute, but it would slow the bleeding. Taking her hand, the two stumbled forwards into the arena, “Marie! Marie where are you?!” Sheldon called out, taking no time to notice the hunched over Squidster in the centre. He limped towards her, the Agent in tow, before he stopped and saw the ghastly sight, “No...”  
  
“...What’ve I done?” Marie wailed as she cradled the body, uncaring about the magenta ink slowly staining her dress. For so long she had frozen, the gravity of the situation slowly crashing down upon her like a ton of bricks. And now, breath erratic, eyelids fluttering, it all clicked. A single sob escaped her.  
  
“...I killed her!”  
  
With that final wail, Marie collapsed over her cousin’s remains, and cried. Scattered, wailing sobs escaped her broken throat, eyes squeezed shut and draining tears at an alarming rate. Sheldon could only watch the Squidster rock back and forth, clutching the body as if it was destined to ascend to the heavens without her to weigh it down. But there was no being inhabiting that body, not anymore. She was cast to the afterlife. And she wasn’t coming back. Sheldon, slowly setting Agent 4 down, tried to wrap his stubby little arms into a hug around her torso. It did nothing to quieten the screaming whines escaping her throat, nor lessen her grip on the body. But it was all he could afford to do. It would be a while before he could get someone to come evacuate them from this hole. Patch up their wounds. Plan their revenge. Bury their fallen.  
  
But that could wait. Now was time to grieve. And Marie did, long, long into the Canyon night.


	2. Darkest Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's the day. A month of planning and crying and expensive processes. Today is the day of the funeral of Callie Cuttlefish. Marie's been avoiding this day for a long time now...but she can never escape it. She must put her cousin into the ground and deal with the consequences.

"Yo, yo, yo! You know what time it is!"  
  
"It's time for the Inkopolis News, live from Inkopolis Square! Now, Pearl, we got a surprise before we open with the Stage Rotation!"  
  
"That's right, Rina! We got some actual news for once! Genuine, breaking news! We're like an real news channel, now!"  
  
"Alrighty! Here it comes...give it a second..."  
  
"Ah come on, news printer! I know you don't get THAT much use, but-"  
  
"Oh, it's here! This is gonna be fresh news to us, too. This'll be exciting! Alright, the news is...i-is..."  
  
"...Marina? Marina, you okay?"  
  
"N-No...she...she can't be! I d-...I'm sorry, I'm just...i-in shock, I...oh Cod..."  
  
"Ah, she's crying! Cut the music! That's better. Marina, babe, come here! There we go. What's wrong, 'Rin-Rin? What's the news?"  
  
"I can't...I can't read it, not...[sniffle] not like this..."  
  
"Alright, let me do it. Thaaaaaank you. Alright! Sorry about that folks, the news is...oh. O-Oh dear. Well, sorry to report this, but...Callie Cuttlefish, Squid Sister and global idol...dead at 19..."  
  
===  
  
A month passed. The Inklings were distraught. Some lost their edge in the wake of the news. They got sloppy, their performance dropped. Public Turf Wars eventually closed down, more in respect than anything else. Ranked and Private Matches still ran for those less-than-upset, but even they could see that Judd and his miniature duplicate had no energy. They could see the hurt in their eyes. Eventually, that stopped too. And when it did, it was time. It had been planned for a long time, now, behind closed doors. Captain Cuttlefish, quickly revealed to be related to the Squid Sisters from way back when, was the one to set it all up. Marie remained hidden from the public eye, even in the wake of her new-found popularity and attention. People were remembering the Sisters again...now it was time for one of the two's funeral.  
  
It was a miserable day in Inkopolis as the procedure was carried out. A storm ran out amongst the city, pelting the Square with weather that made it seem like the already flooded Earth wept for the passing. Rain hammered down as the Inklings and Jellyfish lined the street. Every shop was shut, deigned to even entertain being open during this. Even Crusty Sean, the shoe-seller turned fry cook, had abandoned his post at his food truck and was lined within the proceedings, a morose look on his face as he stared down at the ground. Spike, Jelfonse, Annie, they all joined him in the mourning. People were huddled underneath umbrellas, real ones instead of the weapons they'd mess about with in Turf, and a few were wearing some pieces of Callie merch - hats, coats, even glasses and the like. It had felt like the whole of Inkopolis had turned up for this squid girl's final journey. Not everyone was feeling sad, but...enough were. A lot of merely upset, staring at the road, waiting for the coffin conga line. Others were sniffling, trying (and failing) to keep some composure, while others still gave up any pretence and were openly sobbing into each others arms.  
  
Finally, the coffin was wheeled down the street, towards the graveyard. It was pushed by Jelly and Inkling, side-by-side, Inklings sat in yellow raincoats to protect from the drizzle. It was a nice coffin. Dark Oak, rare in this world, lined with pink furnishings and a black lid with pink stripes across it.   
  
It was not open casket. Marie couldn’t bring herself to look upon her mess. No-one could.  
  
The procedure was slow, mainly so those lining the coffin's sides could step forward and choke out their goodbyes. They did so, with sniffling sobs. The coffin continued forwards, followed by a wide range of people. Some the public recognised, some they did not. First, was Marie. This would be the first time she had shown herself to the people in weeks, everyone wanted to see what had become of her. The month of hapless sobbing and refusing to eat had been covered up by the makeup artists, but they could not do anything to wipe the hurt look from her face. She was clad in a special version of her famous kimono. Back in the day, people would swoon over its beautiful look, coyly hidden by a parasol. But now, any hint of green was washed away, replaced with a grieving black, while a veil did its best to hide the tears. She held a bouquet of flowers in her right hand. Her left was wrapped around the shoulder of Captain Craig Cuttlefish. He wore a green suit in place of his standard rags, a proper steel cane instead of his old Bamboozler, but he still wore his legendary cap. Even when Marie stared at the ground, he kept his head up high.  
  
Some more followed as the coffin continued towards its final resting place. Next were Pearl and Marina. The Off the Hook duo, often so cheery and full of japes and smiles. Today, not so much. No Inkling would ever forget the newscast that would announce Callie's death to the world. Of the tears Marina would shed during that day. Of the lesser spark in her in the month leading up to the funeral. She would dress in a proper funeral dress, hands bunched into flowers while her equal in the world trampled alongside her. Pearl was at least able to keep her composure during the month, and had arrived at the congregation dressed in a suit. It was tight, but she didn't complain. She never would, not today. Following those two were...a trio of weird people. A dark-skinned, green-coloured male Inkling, walking briskly along. He wore odd clothing; a black fleece jacket, over which sat a bright neon visibility jacket, leggings, black and neon green trainers, and a torn and ragged cape. He wore headphones, and bore a rather nasty cyan scar across the right side of his face.   
  
The young female next to him was even less lucky; she was lighter-skinned, almost pale, and bright yellow in the tentacles. She wore a ski jacket with a reflective stripe across the chest and arms, denim shorts and massive snowboots with orange rails. But, not-at-all hidden by her own set of headphones, was the eyepatch on the left side of her face. The guilt displayed was like nothing anyone had ever seen before. She grimaced, gripped her arm, stared at the pooling floor in shame. And then, trailing behind her, was...PROBABLY an Inkling Magenta in colour, she had a very peculiar hairstyle. Suckers on the outside of the tentacles. Curious. She wore a Juice Parka, Moto Boots, and a pair of sunglasses that covered a good portion of her face. Expression unreadable, she trailed behind, followed only by one other person; Sheldon. Ammo Knights proprietor, perhaps with a new emblem resembling a "5" stitched onto his uniform, but the same dour expression as everyone else.  
  
At long last, it arrived. Sandy Shores Cemetery, the final resting place for those who could never respawn. Callie's grave had already been picked out and dug; it was ornate, lined with black and pink. Bunches of flowers already lined the grave, and a photo of her in her prime was encased upon a plaque on a gravestone with stairs leading to a platform. Text inscribed on the gravestone;   
  
‘Callie Cuttlefish. Cousin, Idol, Sister. 2000AZ-2019AZ. Rest in Peace. Stay Fresh.’  
  
Perhaps a little flowery, but it was what she would have wanted. Inklings spilled into the cemetery as the coffin neared its destination. It hovered over the grave as everyone gathered around, and those who followed the coffin took their seats at the front. Soon, everything was ready for the send-off. Cuttlefish broke from Marie's side and slowly clambered up the steps to the podium carved into the gravestone. A microphone system had been installed, connected to speakers, upon it. He tapped into the microphone, and cleared his throat.  
  
"Well, uh, h-hello, everybody!" he said in a way that could almost be called cheerful, but not quite, "Uh...thanks for coming? I mean it is a wonderful honour that so many people wish to see my precious...baby girl on into the afterlife. Uh, w-we're just gonna do some speechwork, before we all, uh, submerge the coffin. Marie's gonna go last. So, uh, me first, yes. Now," he took the microphone from the stand, "I could not have been more proud of Callie and her cousin. Of course, I've known them for a long time. I saw 'em grow up. They loved their singing. And when they won first place at the contest with that there song of there's...heh, I knew, they had a bright ol' future ahead of them. And blow me, they did. The cream of the crop for Inkopolis Plaza, heh heh...but, those days are long gone," he sighed, "She just sorta got kidnapped .I thought she could take care of herself. She did two years ago, but, I guess she just ran outta luck. You can't prepare for everything. I try, but..." he dabbed at a tear, "Sorry, I'm rambling, excuse me. I ain't just gonna lay low, cry my days away, nah. I gotta keep goin'. I'm gonna go forward. Do everything I can. For her. For Callie. It's what she would've wanted. Thank you."  
  
Placing the microphone back in the stand, and his own bunch of flowers by the grave, he stepped off the podium. He looked shaken up inside, but he remained calm. He wandered back to Marie's side, sat on his chair and took her hand. She squeezed it tight as the next two went on stage. Marina took the microphone first, "Ahem. Well, uh...our history doesn't...REALLY go back that far? I mean, we've done a few gigs with 'em, during our formative years. And yeah, we had a...lot of fun..." she sighed, barely keeping her composure, "Okay, look. We owe everything to the Sisters. Like, everything. When their song rang out amongst the people those two years ago...it gave me hope. I was in a dark time, in a dark place. I didn't know where to go. But their song showed me another path. Outta the dark place. And it was there I met Pearl. If it wasn't for Cal, I...wouldn't even be here."  
  
"Yeah, and I'd still be in a failing metal band. So so much for betraying my origins, DEREK! Ha, see where I am now, you-" a quick elbow from Marina sent the diminutive Inkling flying off of the podium. She clambered back up and climbed to the microphone, "S-Sorry, I-I...okay, so, I have Cal to thank for everything too. Gettin' Marina outta those Do...uh, her dark place, that was the best thing for her. My best thing was...meeting Marina. Starting a band. Becoming THE face of Inkopolis entertainment! And it was all thanks to that there song. If they didn't sing...I couldn't sing. I WOULDN'T sing. I'd be a nobody. And I never thought we'd get here but..." she sniffled, "It was...an honour to be part of Cal's story."  
  
"We're so sorry for today's loss," Marina sniffled, cuddling Pearl close, "But, the best we can do is keep doing what we do. Make idols everywhere proud," both hopped down and put their own flowers on the bed, "Rest in Peace, Sister."  
  
"Yeah...S-Sis," Pearl fumbled, "...Nailed it."  
  
Next up was the green Inkling - his friends stayed in their seats as Pearl and Marina retreated. He stood up to the podium, and cleared his throat, "Hi there folks. Uh, you're...probably not gonna know who I am...or my friends. And some of you...would rather FORGET Sheldon-" a small frown appeared on the hermit crab, but he waved it off with a slight chuckle. The Inkling continued, "So, I'mma speak on their behalf. My name is...well, it’s not important. Me, her...” he pointed to the forlorn Inkling, “and her...” then to the other totally-an-Inkling, “We are a special kind of...eh, look. I be one of Cal's...unknown friends. Me and her, we go a loooooooong way back. Everyone has their friends, even when you don't know they're even there. She found me, and she turned my life around. I remember what I was like back then...I was a complete idiot, a nobody. I thought the Kensa Charger was cool!" a sort of laughter rang out amongst the crowd, but he reigned them back in, "No, but seriously, I was a real piece of work. Bad at Turf, bad at Ranked. I was gonna go nowhere. But then I came across the Sisters, and they taught me...everything they needed me to know. And then some. I matured so much over the years. My life goals are clear, my skills are developed. My life is...back on track. So are my friends’, down there. And I have the Sisters to thank for that. She was...the nicest person I've ever met. Cal, I'm gonna miss you..." he sighed, throwing another set of flowers onto the grave, "Stay Fresh, you hear?"  
  
He stepped down from the podium, quickly diverting over to Marie to give her a peaceful thump on the back, a silent 'You got this' on his lips. Marie sighed - yes, it really was time. A month of shame, of crying, of hiding from the public, refusing to accept what had happened. But there was no escaping this. Well, unless she suddenly took off and bolted for the gates. But even so, they were crowded and blocked by hundreds of Inklings paying their respect. Another harsh sigh escaped her throat, and she finally stood up, shambling towards the podium. The shiny, glossy makeup splashed on her face did only the bare minimum to hide the dire sadness on her face. She just wanted to flee. To shut the world away. But she had to be...stronger, than that. She finally stepped up the podium, tapped the microphone, then took it with her;  
  
"Okay, so...I don't, really know what you people want me to say. Do you want me to just go over everything that the others have? Nah, I know you don't. You wanna see me go into detail on my future plans, my solo outings. Like I did, all those years ago. When I won that...Finalfest, whatever it was. I don't think you quite understand, how much this hurts. I never wanted to outlive Callie. Never, not in a million years. Callie was my friend. She was...my cousin-" a round of surprised gasps rang out amongst the crowd, to which a distraught Marie sighed, "I know, shocker. Everyone thinks we're Sisters from the name. That was always our manager's idea. Cephalopod Cousins just...didn't roll off the tongue. But, it still fit to me. Because me and Cal, we really were like sisters. All the way back when we first won that singing contest in our childhood. We worked as a duo for years. We actually cut our teeth in Walleye Warehouse, if you can believe that. Then we came to Inkopolis Plaza, worked as interns in the studio while we Turfed...and then we got our break. WE became idols. The top of the world. Sure, we squabbled, argued, fell out...some days I felt like I hated her. And I always felt like an idiot after. She was everything to me. Even when the Finalfest drew us apart, we were still closer to each other than anything else."  
  
"I knew that final Splatfest was gonna be a mistake..." Spike sighed loudly.  
  
"Then I went on holiday, she never arrived. Kidnapped. Mistreated. Abused. And left by my feet, stone dead. Her light snuffed out by those...disgusting Octoslobs. The Octarian menace! The disgusting, squishy, Octo MONSTERS that murdered my...m-my..." a sob escaped her throat, "Sorry. Just...give me a moment..." she took a moment to silently cry, dabbing at her tears with the palm of her bare hand. People watched her on with a sort of sick wonder, entranced by the Sister's performance. Marina turned to look at Pearl with a fearful look in her eyes, to which Pearl comforted her. Marie ceased her crying, and cleared her throat, "Sorry. S-Sorry, I just...I know it's been a month, but...words fail me on what sort of horrible outcome this was. Callie was everything to me. The best relative I could ask for. Happy, funny, beautiful, a treat for her fans...to the bitter end. I miss her already. May she live on in a far better place..." she sighed, dropping to the ground, microphone still in hand. She placed her flowers straight onto the coffin, then her hand, "Goodbye, Cal. I'm sorry..."  
  
With that, the rain only increased, sending slathers of sorrow slapping down onto the ground. Marie exited the coffin area, and watched on as the casket began its final descent. With a huff, the coffin was slowly lowered into the grave, a soft rumbling of dirt and silt and a push of water to the surface. Some would dodge the water, while others still felt like it was fitting pain for the loss. Marie walked back to the gates, not waiting for the other speech to send the coffin into the ground, nor did she wait for the coffin to be covered. This was it. Callie was dead. There was nothing she could do about it. And it...sucked. Spike had broken from the crowd and was waiting at the gates, a sympathetic look in his eyes. They shared a small hug, Marie nestling into the man’s torso and letting forth a few more tears away from prying eyes.  
  
"There we go, luv, get it all out..." Spike sighed, patting the Sister's back, "Well done, Marie. That must've taken a lot."  
  
"It did," Marie mumbled.  
  
A clamber of feet as a few more people approached; Cuttlefish and the green Inkling in tow, with the one-eyed Inkling stumbling behind. Cuttlefish slapped him on the back, "Nice speech, Agent 3! Well, sorta. I get the idea you REALLY didn't rehearse this, did you?" he rambled, softly punching the Inkling's shoulder, "Still did good, though. Kept the references to the Splatoon to a minimum. We're SECRET for a reason, don’t forget!"  
  
"Yes Boss," the Inkling said, stoic in tone. He turned to Marie, "Hey 'Rie. Nice work back there. Made us all blubber. Or something."  
  
"We're...really sorry that she's gone..." Spike sighed, "That had ’ta hurt."  
  
"Yeah, it does..." Marie sighed, "I just...I waited two years. I wanted to save her! I came so close, she was RIGHT THERE-"  
  
"Didn't you hire someone to help, though?" the Green Inkling asked, "Because I was away. Ah, yes. You did. Gail," he turned to the Agent, "So you're the fresh meat. How'd you do, squiddo?"  
  
"WELL I've got one eye left, what do you think?" Gail grumbled, "That was a disaster! I haven’t felt so low in my life! And yet..." she sighed. She turned to Marie, spreading her arms out, "Marie. I'm...really so-"  
  
"DON'T!" Marie screeched, jumping from Spike’s embrace to point accursedly at the Agent, "Talk to me! This is your fault you cyCLOPS FREAK!"  
  
"Woah, woah, Marie!" Cuttlefish babbled, bringing the squid into a huddled hug, "There we go...we've got the worst out. No point gettin' overly emotional like this, now. Come on, let's get ye home."  
  
And with that, Cuttlefish took her hand and began the long, painful stumble home. Gail looked up to her fellow Agents, tears in her eye. Agent 3 pulled her into a hug, where she began to softly cry into his jacket. Not the first time she had wept over the course of the month. Callie was dead. Marie was distraught. The entire city had ground to a halt. The Octarian Scourge had won.  
  
And it was all her fault.  
  
===  
  
The next day, everything was normal.  
  
Marie mused on this as she sat in front of her television. Prim, proper. Sitting up straight, hands in her lap. Wearing a trendy outfit; mint green blouse, white pants, socks, watch, hair still up in her iconic windswept look. A bottle of water on the side, which she slowly drank from as her vision focused on the screen. Turf War was back on, already. The colours were locked into green and pink, though. In remembrance. The Off the Hook duo were still a little subdued, however. And Judd was just not feeling himself. But Turf War was back on, Ranked was back in play, that Grizz guy was still exploiting cheap labour. The shops were open and bustling, people were...happy. Everything was normal again.  
  
And Marie absolutely hated that. How could it ever be normal when her cousin was gone?  
  
A knock at the door snapped Marie out of her funk. It was a rough trio of bangs on the door. She knew full well who that would be. She daintily got up off of her couch and made her way towards the door of her apartment. For years she and Callie had lived here, just a short walk from the original Plaza, where they would sing and dance the days away. It was paid for quite some time ago, so the passing of Cal wasn't too bad for THAT, at least. In fact, her will specifically asked for half her life savings and possessions to go to her cousin - the other half would go to Cuttlefish and Agent 3 - so money wasn't a problem for now. The apartment was thankfully sizeable, one with most of the house being one room, with separate ones for the bed and bathrooms. Oddly modern, considering the time it was built. Approaching the wooden door, Marie unlocked it and swung it open;  
  
"Hey, 'Rie."  
  
Yep. It was him, alright. Agent 3. The random schmoe who, just trying to get his OctoChoco bar out from the vending machine, had been whisked by Cuttlefish into a life of Agency and war. But damn if he didn't take to it. His exploits were legendary amongst the Octarian force, who heralded him with fear. He was their bogeyman, now. The Understeaker, they called him. So it was weird to see his civvie side, a Turfer and part-time barista named Rideu Howards. He looked quite different to his Agent look; his hair was slimmer and less spiky, he wore fake contacts that changed his eyes from green to purple. He wore Squidlife Headphones (that weren't plugged into anything), the Dark Urban Vest and a pair of Deepsea Leather Boots. His tartar-scar, as Cuttlefish had taken to calling it, was covered with concealment. A Ngyes wearing makeup. It'd make Marie chuckle...if she was in the mood.  
  
She wasn't, of course, "...Why did you turn up in your Agent gear yesterday? Gramps said not to bring up any Agent stuff."  
  
"Ceremonial wear," Rideu sighed, "I was saying goodbye to a fellow Agent. I wanted to look the part," he scratched the back of his head, "THAT, and people sell replicas of my stuff anyway, thanks to Cuttlefish..." he shrugged, "Not like anyone would tell the difference."  
  
"What're you doin' here?" Marie asked dryly.  
  
"Cuttlefish sent me," Rideu said. A few seconds passed in silence, "....Okay, no. He actually sent Four. But I'm guessing you don't want to see her right now. OR Eight, come to think of it. If your outburst was any indication."  
  
"Save. Callie. I made her mission clear," Marie growled, "And she failed. She failed so hard it blinded her. I do not tolerate-"  
  
"Marie," Rideu said sternly, grabbing the doorframe, "...Gail was doin' her best. She was ALWAYS doin' her best. And she slipped up, so what? Nobody's perfect. Remember what I was like when I started this job? I was so scared, Marie. Your grandfather pushed a 15 year old into a coddamn WARZONE. Even two years on, I still get nightmares and flashbacks. I was just like you. I thought Octos could do no right."  
  
Marie grumbled, "What changed?"  
  
"Kambao, for a start," Rideu scowled, his right eye twitching in response to the reference, "That phone did things to me and the Octolings that Octavio himself could never replicate. Even if he did come close..." he sighed, "And...Eight helped too. She showed me that an Octo could be just as good, heroic and...well, a damn fine shot with a glorified water pistol as any Inkling. She's just so curious and good and...I...well..."  
  
"If you say you love her," Marie growled, staring at the shocked face of Rideu, "The ultimate Agent loving a filthy Octoling..."  
  
"W-Well! Uh....hmm. Uh..." Rideu fumbled, "How're...how're you, doing...?"  
  
Marie sighed, eyes half-lidded, "Yeah, I'mma close this door now."  
  
"Wait wait WAIT!" Rideu shouted, grabbing the door as Marie went to slam it closed. He wrenched it back open, panting for breath, "I AM here for something else. Come on...here it is!" he fished an envelope out of his pocket and gave it to Marie. It bore a strange symbol on it. A weird M and a P symbol. Rideu went on, "It's the Off the Hook duo. They told Eight, who told me to tell YOU that they want an interview. Get some stuff off your chest, delve into a little more detail on the...events. They promised payment, if that's worth anything. Even got a new guy on the team they want to train with this."  
  
Marie stared at the letter. It was ornately written, in a way that a computer-typed message could be. It was signed by Marina. And Pearl. AND their manager, though it seemed someone had scribbled that name out. In crayon. Must've been Pearl. It went into the details. Loads of technical details. Blah blah blah...lots of babble. But it got the point across. Get down by noon - about an hour or so - and have an hour's chat. Sounded good. Marie sighed.  
  
"Alright," she stated, "Let 'em know. I'll be down by noon."  
  
"Coooooool," Rideu grinned, "I'll let 'em know. Later, Two..." he turned to go, but he paused. He sighed, "And I know you're gonna hear this a whole bunch, but...I'm sorry. For your...loss. I can't imagine how it's gotta feel. I CAN see it, I guess. You been crying lately?"  
  
"Not since yesterday," Marie shrugged, a look of confusion spreading across her face, "Why?"  
  
"Your...your eyes..." Rideu mumbled, head tilted in confusion, "They're really...w-weird. What happened?"  
  
"What?" Marie asked. She ran off to the opposite end of the room, to check herself in the mirror. A full length mirror on the end of the room, next to the bedroom. It was enough to get her look down. Green blouse, yes. White pants, yes. Watch, socks, hair, yes and yes and ye-wait a minute. It took a second, but she could see it in her eyes. They weren't white with yellow criss-cross pupils. They were...new. Totally normal Squid eyes, a black pupil with a ring of colour...a ring of white. Black, with white pupils. Monochrome. Marie felt a pang of panic well up in her system.  
  
"Wow, and I thought my Tartar Eye looked weird," Rideu mumbled.  
  
"This isn't..." Marie turned to the Agent, a look of panic in her face, "What's happening to me, Rideu?!"  
  
Rideu couldn't answer. This was something beyond him. Beyond Marie. Beyond...anyone. If only they could be aware of the world of hurt those eyes would bring for the grieving Squid.  
  
 _ **“And so...it begins. You will be part of my family soon, little moth.”**_


	3. Ink Me Up

“Miss Cuttlefish. So glad you could see us on such short notice. Mr Fushin is ready to see you now. If you could take a left down the hall and into the room on your third right, please.”

“Okay. Okay. Thank you.”

“And, sorry for your loss, Miss Cuttlefish.”

“...Thank you.”

Marie sighed deeply as she trudged down the hallway towards the interview room. Rideu was right. She WAS going to hear that a lot throughout the days. The travel down to the studio alone was rife with people saying that. Her disguises were simply not working anymore. To be fair, they weren’t great to begin with. Green jacket, stupid hat...facemask? It didn’t even hide her iconic hair, come on. She had left the apartment to get to this interview, and people found her out in seconds. Guess she never tested the Agent disguise in the city. At least they didn’t hound her for interviews, considering the atmosphere. Or ask about the sunglasses covering her demon eyes. They still all said the same thing, though.

“Sorry for your loss.”

‘Your loss’. Hmm. That barely began to approach the devastation. Never again would Callie wake her in the morning with a cup of coffee and a happy grin. Chide her playfully with her news slot commentary. Provide much needed banter during Recon in the Valley. As she bounced along with the subway train on the way to the Square, she sat silently, those thoughts churning in her head. A few Inklings looked her way, but that was it. Before long, she made it to the Square once more - a common sight whilst scouting out potential Agent 4s. Of all the good it did.

Her little brainstorm session over, she found herself outside the door to the interviewer’s office. Nice wood, his full name on a plaque on the door. It was fresh and pristine, brass and polished. Clearly new. The name; Finnley Fushin. She hesitated. Was this interview really such a good idea? What would they ask? A deep sigh. Well, only one way to figure that out. She knocked twice on the door, and awaited a reply.

It came fast, voice laced with slight accent, “Come in!”

Marie did so, pushing the door open and stepping inside. The interview room was quite homely. Walls blue, carpets brown, quite the modern feel to it actually. In the corner, a computer desk curving around the corner of the room, with a monitor, computer case, keyboard and mouse sitting on and around it. In the other corner, a coffee machine and another desk with the incoming and outgoing forms of the day. And in the middle, a medium-sized table with cup holders built into the various edges of it. Two chairs sat on opposite sides as well.

Spinning around in his computer chair to meet Marie, came the interviewer; Finnley, or just Finn to most people. He looked like a weird Inkling for sure; darker skin, cobalt blue tentacle colour. He wore a fairly clean black suit with white shirt and blue necktie, ending in...fingerless gloves. Ooookay? The rest of his attire was fairly standard, ending in black trousers and some nice black shoes. He wore Aviator 18ks and Studio Headphones, which hid his eyes and ears from view. Oh, and his tentacles were styled in a MASSIVE afro. Like, dang, had Marie ever seen something so bulbous?! It looked almost...squishy, in a way.

He looked up at Marie, smiled and leapt to his feet to grab her hand and shake it firmly, “Ahh, Miss Marie. So glad to make your acquaintance! Wonderful to have you here.”

“Wonderful to be here...I guess,” Marie sighed.

“Don’t worry, Miss,” Finn said, “I know you’ve got a lot of pain in there. We will make this as painless as possible, yes? The studio just wants a bit more information on the proceedings, is all. Are you aware that we will be live for a portion of it?”

“Yes,” Marie said, “It was in the letter.”

“Wonderful,” Finn clasped his hands together, “Simply wonderful!” he then took a seat across from Marie on the middle table. To Marie’s surprise, two cups of coffee were already in the cup holders. She took the one on her side, taking a sip of it. A wave of mocha, with a hint of walnut syrup. She turned to speak, but Finn stopped her, “Yeah, your fave. ‘Rina told me. Wanna make things comfortable, considering the circumstances. So, ready to begin?”

Marie took a simple, deep breath, “...I’m ready.”

“Good,” he chuckled. Wheeling in an already connected and powered camera, he turned it towards the two and then turned towards the TV screen on the wall. It was showing the Off the Hook duo, talking as they would.

“And, those were the stage rotations!” Pearl called out, before an errant sigh escaped her, “Urgh...Sturgeon Shipyard AGAIN?”

“Pearlie, be nice,” Marina giggled slightly. Marie could look at her expression. She was still hurting from the news. From the loss...she couldn’t see why. It wasn’t HER cousin. It was HER kind that did her in! Still, Marina cleared her throat and continued reading the script, “H-However, we’re not quite done yet!”

“That’s right, ‘Rina!” Pearl boasted, very full of herself as usual, “We’ve got a special interview today with Inkopolis’ new-old talkin’ sensation! That’s right, we got a special interview with Marie Cuttlefish, talking about her past, her present and her future! I think they’re all set up, so we can go to them live in the studio! In 3...2...1!”

“Here we go...” Marie sighed under her breath.

“And we are LIVE, yo!”

“Good afternoon, Pearl, Marina,” Finn twiddled with his Aviators as if he was tipping a hat, “Indeed, I have with me this afternoon, Marie Cuttlefish.”

“Good evening...” Marie sighed, waving weakly. Her energy was...still quite low, after yesterday. And the month before, come to think of it.

“Anyway, we’re live, time to get on with the questions, one supposes,” Finn chuckled warmly, “Okay, first question. Formalities out of the way, of course, uh, what have you been up to recently? Beyond, uh...you know.”

“I DO know,” Marie sighed, “Well, apart from my cousin’s...f-funeral, I spent the last month, I guess holed up in my apartment. I would just...sit there, ruminate on what had transpired. That, and planning for the thing, of course. I spent so much time just, mindlessly watching TV, I guess.”

“I understand, a lot of thoughts in there, no time for book signings!” Finn chuckled, “Leads us nicely into Question 2, ah, what are your plans going forward? Any plans for a solo career?”

Marie started looking a little insulted, “I, was FAIRLY sure I mentioned this down the cemetery last night...bah, whatever. I have no plans for a solo career at the moment,” she stressed that last part well, “I need time to grieve and heal, first. Then, I’ll get in talks with my agent and see where it all goes.”

“Wonderful,” Finn smirked, writing all of that down in notebook, “Ooh, this’ll be juicy. Well, uh, question three! It’s been two years since winning Finalfest, and sure you’ve given countless interviews of it in the past, but we wanna know how you REALLY feel. Right now, in the moment. How was your Finalfest experience?”

“...I must admit,” Marie choked back a sob, daring not to remember the events that led to all this, “I’ve grown to hate it, in recent years. You know, I took it in stride at first. I’d dance all around the studio, party, even get a little...tiny...uh, BLACKOUT drunk and wake up in someone else’s bed!”

“Ooh, check out this party girl over here, huh?” Finn japed, softly knocking Marie on the shoulder and chuckling heartily. Marie could hear the other two girls laugh back in the studio. It was...almost hateful, how Marina laughed in that way Octo types did.

She cleared her throat, “Well...that was then, at least. But, you know, this is now. I see what I was back then, how I acted. How I...left Callie in the dust to pursue my own career. I got talk shows and radio slots and even movie roles! What did she get? A cameo on some crummy sitcom? Music played AFTER most people had gone to bed? It forced us apart. And...well, I never got the chance to say my apologies before she died...” she gripped the table hard, “Those wretched Takoyaki Brains tore her from me!”

She could hear Marina gasp in unadulterated shock, followed by Pearl squawking in anger. Marie knew why. Takoyaki Brain was just about the most offensive term for an Octoling. She picked it up in the Canyon, and started using it liberally. Finn tugged at his collar, “Hoo boy, we are NOT going to be able to air that. Should we...change topic?”

“...We shall.”

The hour passed pretty quickly after that. Finn would just flap his gums for a little bit, smirking pretty much all of the time, whilst Marie would sit and listen, face drooping into a sneer. She hated it, but her thoughts turned back Callie, every time she was done speaking. The questions kept rolling in; ‘can you tell us a little more about your Calamari County days?’ and ‘Have you ever had a man in your life? You planning it?’ and ‘Are there any other plans to put Cal to rest?’ That last one was at least honestly answerable; the wake had been delayed a week in order to better prepare a proper send-off for the Squid Sister. She didn’t know where, or what, but she knew when. But it hurt to even speak her name, flashes of her gaping wound festering in Marie’s mind. And it always felt like Finn was juuuuust about enjoying this a little too much...

Soon, the hour was up. Marie didn’t even remember half of it. She must have insulted Octokind a little bit more, considering Marina looked shocked and Pearl was about to break her chair in anger. Whatever. It was the Octos kidnapping Callie that led to that fatal shot, and Agent 4 failed to stop them. They were to blame, Marie thought.

“Alright!” Finn giggled a little, shuffling his papers and scribbling a little into his notebook, “Ah, final question for the live interview, excuse me if this is out of left field. Uh, you have, ah, been put on record of blaming your cousin’s death on quote-unquote ‘Octarians’, including during this interview. Sound like a mean lot for sure, uh, would you like to elaborate on your wording during such a situation?”

Marie cleared her throat. She wouldn’t dare reveal the Splatoon on air...but that wasn’t going to stop her giving the Octos a piece of her mind, “...There is a faction known as the Octarians. They were the losing side of the Great Turf War we had, 100 years ago. Our brave heroes drove their evil back into the Domes, and they’ve been there for years now. Guess they got a little sick of rolling in their own FILTH and decided to rise up and kidnap a pop star. Maybe take her hostage, show the world just...well I’m not sure what. And then, next time I see her, she...she’s dead. Great big hole in her head! By them! The absolute scumbags killed MY cousin, to prove a point.”

“What point do you think they were trying t-”

“That they’re evil, of course!” Marie growled, “Those freaks, they don’t understand why we drove them into the depths to begin with! The sub-Inkling filth, we don’t want their kind here, they poison and shatter all they touch! And they are all, ALL of them, better off dead.”

Marie took a few seconds to catch her breath. She had bellowed out her rant, and was now spent. Tears stained her cheeks, but she did not care, such was the burning in her head. The anger slowly faded, and she arched forward, sighing in realisation.

“Well, that was...thorough,” Finn nodded, turning to the shocked idols, “Anywho, hour’s over! That good enough for you, girls?”

Pearl said nothing, her face twisted into a silent rage, “...Cut the feed. I’m about to do somethin’ you REALLY can’t do on TV.”

The feed was cut. Marie couldn’t hear or see how Pearl reacted. But she could tell, it wasn’t pretty. Finn turned to her, smiling smugly, “How was that, Finalfest Winner?”

Marie looked down on him, “...Do I get paid yet?”

“Almost!” Finn chuckled, turning back to the notebook in front of him, “Alrighty. Last question. Confidential. Strictly off the books. Tell me, Marie. Or should I say...Agent 2?” Marie jumped a little at the mention. Her Agent moniker? How could he know that?! Finn’s childish smirk slowly fell into a devious one, and he removed his glasses, “How did it feel? Blowing her away, like you did countless of our kin?”

Marie stared on in shock. His eyes had no line conjoining the two across his nose. His ears were rounder. His eyes, a shade of dark green. She murmured, “...I-Impossible. You’re-”

“An Octoling, yes,” Finn chuckled darkly, his once energetic tone slowly taking on a more condescending one, “Quick on the uptake today, aren’t you? Hoo boy, you REALLY let us know how you feel about us, huh?” He leaned in, as if to prove a point, “For what it’s worth, feeling’s mutual.”

“What. Is a FILTHY Octoslob doin’...” Marie growled, before she exploded, “Running this interview?!”

“If y’all really wanna know, I escaped the Metro a weeks back. Thanks to someone on YOUR team,” Finn smirked as he laid back in his chair. Marie racked her brain. Was Agent 8, that new, responsible for this? Was it Agent 3?! Of all people!? She subconsciously reached for a Splattershot attached to her belt, but there was no such weapon.

“So...do I know you?” she asked.

“Nope. But I know you. I still remember everything from the Valley from those two years ago. I saw your Agent cleave his way through my people like a hot knife through butter. Thousands splatted and not one of you bats an eye. But now family is dead, NOW it’s a tragedy. Oh excuse me, I’m ranting. I tried to fit in with the Inkos, for sure. Took a reporting job at this here item, and got fast tracked to the top, thanks to ‘Rina...”

“The bias...slob,” Marie stared at the ground in anger, “Why tell me this, anyway? You think I haven’t gone toe-to-toe with your kind before?!”

“I do,” Finn nodded, “But this’ll be a battle I will win with words, not weapons. I think you’re hiding something, Marie. You SAY one of us killed your precious cousin, but I know the truth. And I will make it known. In time...” he finally turned away, as if bored with Marie’s presence, turning back to his computer and typing away, “ANYWAY, I think our time is just about up. I’ve got some editing to do for tomorrow’s paper. Paycheck will be given on the way out,” he paused his work to look behind him, staring back at Marie, “Oh, and don’t bother telling Marina. She won’t listen, not after what you said about her people. Genuine pleasure talking with you, Agent 2.”

“Not at all likewise.”

“I’m glad. Now get.”

Marie suddenly felt a fool. Over the past hour, had Finn made her one. A sour dryness filled her mouth and stomach, a single tear welling in her eye. She wanted nothing more than to be done with this. She turned and barged out of the door, his soft chuckling echoing down the hallway and serving only to mock her further. She stopped by the receptionist, wordlessly grabbing the check and stuffing it into her pocket. She likewise said nothing.

Pearl and Marina dotted the exit. Marina looked shaken, mouth devoid of words. She dared not look Marie in the eye, or speak to her. She simply, softly slinked away towards her dressing room. Marie huffed in response, not like she wanted to talk to her anyway. But, as she was about to leave, she received a tap on the shoulder.

“Uh, excuse me, Marie?” Pearl said softly, a certain anger to her eyes, “Can I have a word, yo?”

“...Sure?” Marie shrugged, her energy spent, beyond caring. Pearl motioned to follow her into her dressing room. It was nice. A little messy. But oddly less than she was expecting, considering how the little runt liked to act on screen. Marie sighed, as she closed the door and turned to her, “Right, what do y-”

WHAM! Marie recoiled violently as Pearl smacked her across the face, with all the force of a freight train.

“I WANT,” Pearl growled, “An apology. For all the scrap you said in that interview. About the Octo stuff.”

Marie slowly recovered from the slap, “...Are you vouching for them?”

“Shell yeah I am! Come off yer high horse with that stuff, honestly! You act like y’all never seen an Octo before.”

“Oh I’ve seen them...monsters.”

“You saw one SIDE of them, yo,” Pearl growled, stepping closer towards Marie and looking up at her, “I saw the whole thing. The bad, AND the good. I have ‘Rina, and Agent 8. They showed me that they’re just as cool, just as heroic, just as kind as anyone else.”

Marie nursed the slapped side of her face, which was slowly turning red, “Where are you going with this?”

“I’m JUST saying,” Pearl snarled, “Octos are so much more than you think they are! I’ve seen them, they are heroes, they’re PEOPLE, yo!” Marie tried to speak, but Pearl shut her up by tossing a chair behind her across the room. She turned to her and exploded, “Marina is all I ever wanted in life, and I love Agent 8 to death! And if you come ANYWHERE near ‘em with that attitude of yours thanks to some outdated claptrap your ‘GRAMPS’ said...” she dragged Marie down to her level and stared at her, eye-to-eye. She spoke again, her voice softened, “I won’t hesitate.”

Marie dared not argue after that. It had already been a long morning, especially if she wasn’t going to listen to her about Finn. She swallowed some bile, “...Okay.”

“Look, I get it. Really...” Pearl sighed, calming down and exiting her personal space, “I was like this when one of my relatives kicked it. I was cryin’ for weeks. But Marina, maybe just to shut me up, really, she gave me this...” she turned around to her dresser, and opened one of the bottom draws. She rummaged around inside, then grabbed something out of the drawer. It was a brown glass bottle with a cobbled-together label on it. It smelt like an oil refinery; “Octo Scotch. Strong moonshine they used to brew in the Domes. Dull the pain of the living conditions. Burns like what the humans called Gasoline, and kicks like a Dynamo Roller.”

“What, you’re giving me strong booze to combat this grief?”

“Yeah...I get it, it’s extreme,” Pearl shrugged a little, head tilted, “But if this don’t nip it in the bud, nothing will. Sea Shellers Duty-Free, down Wave Road. Ask for the Special. But DO. NOT. Use this stuff beyond those six bottles. It’s hella strong and VERY addictive. This is a fast-tracked last resort, got that?”

“...Got it.”

“Good. Now, on yer way, and change that attitude before I change it for you,” Pearl wearily waved Marie off. Marie shrugged in response and started to walk out of the dressing room and, hopefully, out of the building. Pearl voiced up one more time before that, however; “Oh, and...sorry for your loss.”

“...Thanks.”

===

Marie stared at the bottles on her table. She had done a little digging on her phone while the clerk down at the Duty-Free got the bottles, and the waivers. Strong stuff, alright. Enough to melt paint off cars. The stuff they sold in the Duty-Free was watered down until it was...well, drinkable for normal people. And it still kicked hard. She wasn’t looking forward to the taste. She imagined a lot of things it could taste like; burning tire fire? Octavio’s green slime? She was still gonna finish the whole pack, though. If one was enough to dull the pain, maybe six of them would blot out the feeling forever. At least it would be enough for her to forget Callie. If only for one, glorious moment.

This entire day deserved to be drowned, to be honest. Marie had ruminated on the subject, sitting in her train car, eyes fixed to her smartphone screen. Not daring to look up at the crowds staring at her in horror, in anger, at what she said on TV. Finn, the Octoslob, had smoothly tricked her. She had walked right into his trap, and for what? Was it Octavio? Was he working for Octavio?! Was he just trying to rub salt into the wound that he killed Callie?! Marie would be angry, but she couldn’t be. She had been made a fool of on National Television, and she just wanted this day to end. With any luck, she would collapse to the floor, blackout drunk, and wake up in hospital. Agent 4 a hero. Callie just a few rooms down, trying to fish a free OctoChoco out of the vending machine. The nightmare finally over.

...Yeah, that wasn’t going to happen, was it?

Anything to make the pain stop. Anything, if just for a brief moment, to stop seeing Callie everywhere she went. Skipping around billboards. Singing at empty microphones. Dancing around in the night sky, amongst the stars...forever. ANYTHING that would end her suffering, Marie would take. Even now, she could hear Callie, softly whisper in her mind. Cod...she was going to drive her insane, and from beyond the grave at that!

“Marie...” Callie whispered, her soft voice bouncing around Marie’s hollow head, “Please...don’t do this. You can move on. Be happy. I know you can! ...You don’t know what’ll happen if you go down this road.”

“Gotta be better than this,” Marie replied bitterly, to no-one. She popped the top off of the first bottle, drew a deep sigh, “Forgive me Cal...”, and took a hearty swig.

...Damn.

Those Octos had NO taste. 


	4. Maritime Memory

“Your people are ready to receive you, Octavio.”  
  
“Ha, wonderful! Let ‘em know I’m ready for my big break!”  
  
Aldus nodded, smirking. He sauntered across the small, dimly lit room, towards the massive doors that stood before him. With a forceful push, he thrust the doors open, stepping proudly into the arena. Large, spacious, filthy. Gunmetal grey in every direction. A domed roof above him. And below the podium he found himself on, huddled in a braying swarm, were thousands of Octarians; grunts, Troopers, Commanders, Snipers, even a few Elites and Elite Commanders here and there. All cheering and murmuring amongst themselves. Waiting for the reveal.  
  
“OCTARIANS!” Aldus bellowed amongst the noise of the crowd, “Lend me your suction cups!” The chatter of the people slowly vanished as they all began to stare at the male Elite, eyes on him and baited breath. Aldus kept his stoic form and barked, “Today, we have struck a painful blow against the evils of the Splatoon! A VICTORY against the Inkling scourge! For they have received, a death in the family...” a small gasp amongst the people. Aldus smiled, “I present to you, our wonderful leader, LORD OCTAVIO!”  
  
Octavio took his cue. He threw his cap and shades to the floor - not like he was overly attached to them anyway - and slowly secured his ceremonial headdress. Perfect. He too sauntered across the room, throwing the double doors open to the dim glow of the dome’s lights...and the rapturous applause of the Octarians below him. Swelling with pride, he chuckled a little and continued to skip forward towards the main platform of the podium, adoring the cheering crowd as he went. He stopped briefly to ruffle Aldus’ lone tentacle.  
  
“Heh, didn’t need to big me up THAT much, kid. Now then...” he approached the microphone attached to the podium, and tapped it once with a slimy tentacle, “Citzens of the Octo Canyon...we did it!” he chuckled evilly as his people cheered harder than ever before, “Yes, we did it! We struck a FEARSOME chord, straight into the heart of the Squidbeak Splatoon! A year back, we found the wretched Agent 1, all alone in our base. Said she wanted to give us a chance! HA!” he smacked the podium, “We gave her a chance alright! Strapped her to our finest hypno tech and sent her into battle. She was gonna be our figurehead! And then...” he chuckled, “Well, why not tell ‘em, Commander Aldus?”  
  
“Callie is dead,” Aldus said stoically, “Killed. By her own Agency. Her own cousin. A Charger shot, straight into her head. Silly Inko thought she could knock the shades off with a glorified sniper rifle.”  
  
“Well, she certainly took the shades off!” Octavio chuckled, “...Too bad she took half her head with ‘em!” he cackled again as the crowd below him erupted into laughter too. They didn’t care if the idol they took in was dead, after all. Octavio waved, “Alrighty, alright, settle down yo! Time to drop a serious beat...” he leaned closer to the microphone, “We won the battle. But not the war, yo! Not yet...but WE still have the Zapfish!” he gestured below him. The Great Zapfish was indeed, locked within the podium. It managed to squeeze part of its head out, its dumb grin still unchanging, before it was shoved back in. The crowd cheered again, “Indeed! We have all the power! We have all our surviving troops from the Canyon! And now we have a decapitated army; the Splatoon is too distraught, too distracted, to fight back! It is OUR time! We can move into the Canyon, then into the city! We can take back what’s ours, and then some! No more living in fetid conditions! No more struggling to survive! NO MORE-”  
  
Octavio yelled and shielded his eyes as the ceiling to the doom exploded, a shower of burning metal raining down and splatting a ridiculous amount of the crowd below. Aldus recoiled from the attack, but was back on his feet, studying the result. A large, jagged hole had been torn into the dome’s roof, and from it came...a truck? A very familiar truck, at that. Mint and Magenta painted on the side. But the occupants were different this time? In the cockpit, an old man in rags wearing a silly blue cap. On top, an Inkling and...wait, an Octoling?! The Inkling, tan skin and green tentacles, clad in a high visibility jacket and ragged cape. The Octoling, magenta with fair skin, clad in the prototype Null Armour they had tested way back when. Both carrying weapons. Both angry beyond belief.  
  
Octavio recovered from the outburst, and looked up. He growled, “What the shell is...” he trailed off, studying the pilot. He growled, eyes narrow, “Oh you gotta be squiddin’ me.”  
  
“Hi Octavio!” Cuttlefish chirped, waving as if he was meeting an old friend, “Pleasure to see you again. Well, not really. I mean...you killed my granddaughter. That’s not a pleasure. Neither was burying her, you know how expensive it wa-”  
  
“Boss...” the Inkling growled, “I got this...” he sauntered around the truck, staring at the survivors of the metal rain. No more than a few late hundred. He turned around, almost as if it was a graceful dance, “Good evening, Octavio. Octarians. Scum of the flooded earth...and then some. Remember me, Octy? I kicked your bass two years ago.”  
  
“Agent 3?!” Octavio cried out in disbelief, “This is wack, yo! I sent you and Craig on a wild guppy chase back to the Valley!”  
  
“Yeah, well,” Agent 3 shrugged, “Didn’t take long to figure out we were duped. I mean...you put up a cardboard cutout of the Great Zapfish! I’m ashamed I fell for it at all! Then, of course, I get kidnapped and end up in the Deepsea Metro...”  
  
“I know!” Octavio yelled, “Tartar assured me you died down there!”  
  
“Well!” the Octoling growled, “Phone no trouble us. Phone no trouble anyone, anymore!”  
  
“And WHO...” Aldus growled, stepping forward, “Are you? Who is your Octoling friend, 3? Didn’t know your Splatoon took on traitors to our cause...”  
  
“Her name is Agent 8,” Agent 3 said calmly.  
  
“He...saved me from Metro,” Agent 8 said, also calmly, “But, I save him from brainwashing! Hence, scar. I love scar. And him...” she shook her head, focusing again, “We be paste if not for each other! So, win-win! I am no longer a slave soldier for you! I free!”  
  
“Ooooh, even learned some Inkling, huh?” Octavio grumbled, “Well, y’all still got a ways to go! You sound like a cavesquid, ha!”  
  
“She’s free, Octavio,” Cuttlefish repeated, “Moreso than anyone else in this room. Brainwashing, old friend? Really?”  
  
“They obey, or they starve!” Aldus screamed, brandishing his Octo Shot, “Betrayal of this kind will not be tolerated!” he aimed at the Octoling, but Agent 3 took the initiative. He fired his Hero Shot with deadly accuracy, striking Aldus in the hand. It exploded, sending his Octo Shot spiralling into the crowd. He screamed in pain, grasping it with his remaining hand. He looked up at the Agent.  
  
“Oh what, you were aiming for her eye, perhaps?” Agent 3 asked, twiddling his Hero Shot, “Agent 4 told me about that. You are thoroughbred scum, ain’t ya? You see US as the bad guys, but really...” he stared at Octavio, “You’ve crossed lines we’d never dare.”  
  
“We are here,” Agent 8 started, “To save Zapfish, and arrest you! Alive or...n-not alive! You come with us!”  
  
Octavio took a few seconds to take this information in. Then he laughed. Small at first, then erupting into mocking guffaws. He took a pause to wipe his eyes, “Hoo boy, I know they think you’re good Agent, but not THIS good! Your replacement was...oh man, she was SO BAD!” he laughed some more, and struggled to talk through it, “She BARELY got through my forces, and she could never take me down. And that was one on one! It’s two against hundreds, here! What’re you gonna d-wait what is that?”  
  
“Oh this?” Agent 3 stroked the large, garishly painted missile launcher he was now holding in his hands, “Just an old friend of mine from way back when. Hey, did you know our specials in Turf War have limiters on them?”  
  
“...No?” Aldus drew a blank.  
  
“It’s true!” Cuttlefish boasted, “So they don’t drain ALL their ink using the things! But, uh, quick warning...he took his off. GET ‘EM, AGENT 3!”  
  
There was a whizz sound as the Inkstrike fired. A missile fired into the air...no, wait, two missiles? FOUR?! How many was this damn thing firing?! A small handful of missiles screamed into the sky...and then back down, into the crowd. Hundreds of Octos screamed out in pain as the missiles struck them in force, popping them like balloons and covering the arena in dark green ink. Agent 3 quickly handed something to Agent 4, who poured its contents over her tentacles. They too turned a dark green to match his, and the two jumped from the truck to ground level. And they fought, firing their guns indiscriminatingly into the remaining Octos as they attempted to fight back. They had no armour. No cover. But then, they didn’t need it, as not a single drip of magenta gunk even considered landing near them as they spun in circles around each other, gracefully dropping bombs and beats like they were dancing.  
  
Octavio could only watch on in horror, and Cuttlefish in glee, as the massacre continued below him. Even the Octo Snipers could get no shots in. One would fire, but Agent 3 turned and blocked it with a Hero Brella, then fired the Brella itself off. It collided with the Sniper, who exploded on impact. An Octo Commander let loose a barrage, but Agent 8 dodged it with a swift roll and fired a Hero Blaster off into its direction. The Commander too exploded in a shower of ink. They continued to dance around, almost merrily, dropping even the Elites and Commanders who dared get close. One did, and 3 kicked her weapon away before blowing her away with the Slosher.  
  
[Sister...] one Elite wept as she grabbed onto Eight’s arm, [Why...?]  
  
[We are not sisters,] Eight said sadly, [But we will save you. I promise...] and followed by bonking her on the head with her Hero Dualie. She was out cold, but alive.  
  
Up above, Octavio sighed, “The good guys, huh Craig? Killing my people?”  
  
“NOT killing,” Cuttlefish countered, “Knocking out. They’ll all respawn. Away from you. Safe.”  
  
“BALONY!!!” Octavio roared, before he turned to the injured Aldus, “Kid, you gotta scram. Take all the survivors and get FAR away from here! Go further into the Canyon, the Valley, go to the Gorge, ANYWHERE!”  
  
“What about you, sir?” Aldus asked as he nursed his stump.  
  
“I’ll go down fighting,” he chuckled darkly, “They won’t lay a finger on me. I’ve sung this song before. Now go! And get a new arm!” Aldus nodded, running off back into the dark room, and down the stairs. Octavio turned back to Cuttlefish in the truck, “Looks like it’s just me and you again, Craig! Just like old times! Let’s crank it up, and break it down!”  
  
“Gladly,” Cuttlefish said, slamming onto the pedals. The truck roared into life and zoomed forwards. Octavio barely had time to react, much less scream, as the truck smashed into the podium. Reduced to rubble, the podium fell into the arena, Octavio now screaming as he sailed through the air towards the ground. He slammed into the last two remaining grunts, splatting them, and rolled to a complete stop on the floor, dazed.  
  
“Gah, my head...” he groaned as he came to. He slowly saw the truck descend, then stop. Cuttlefish jumped out, just in time to join Agents 3 and 8 as they all slowly approached him. He growled, almost mockingly, “Some people just don’t know how to fight fair these days, don’t they? Y’all think yer heroes, but I-” Agent 3 cut him off, blasting him with a shot from the Blaster. He screamed as the green ink burned on his skin, wiping off what he could before he was splatted. He turned back to them, pained, “Aaaah! Guh! I WASN’T FINISHED YOU BASSHOLE!”  
  
“Typical,” Agent 3 sneered, “You can dish it out, but you can’t take it...” he stepped forward, placing a foot on his body, “You were a rotten apple before, Octavio. But, brainwashing suffering innocents? Kidnapping and enslaving idols? Killing them off to rub it in our faces? To think you could go lower.”  
  
“My people are suffering!” Octavio growled, “We want out!”  
  
“Tell that to the thousands of Elites you shipped off to Kambao,” Cuttlefish said, disgusted, “You don’t know what Tartar did to ‘em, do you?”  
  
“Nope!” Octavio groaned, “But he promised payment; food, water, medical supplies....how could I say no?!”  
  
“He butchered...” Eight growled, “All them. Sanitised. Zombie. I am all that left of original batch.”  
  
“One thousand and eight!” Cuttlefish said, almost proudly, “Or, Agent 8 as I called her. She did a cracking job saving the leftover Octolings. Took ‘em to the surface, and they adapted pretty quickly! Livin’ hand in hand with Inklings...thought I’d never see the day.”  
  
“And YOU...” Agent 3 snarled, “Kept ‘em enslaved, hungry and diseased down here. You’re sick, Octavio.”  
  
“Then kill me,” Octavio cackled, “I know you’d never do it.”  
  
He shrieked in shock as 3 pressed the barrel of his Hero Shot to his head. Cuttlefish looked concerned, latching onto 3’s arm, but 3 remained steady. He growled, “I wanna...I could end all this right now...” a slight pause...and then, he removed the gun from his head, “But I never would. The Squidbeak Splatoon upholds the peace. We’re not a bunch of crazed killers.”  
  
“Not yet!” Octavio cackled, “Always a bad egg in every goody gumdrop group! And I think I know who it is. She was mighty upset with me when I dropped the beat...and her cousin’s noggin! Hah-” he stopped, for 3 had delivered a mighty kick to his head, knocking him out cold.  
  
“Thank you, Agent 3,” Cuttlefish sighed, “I was kinda gettin’ upset myself. He was bad enough two years ago, but...” he sighed, “Well, no use gettin’ hung up over the past now, is there? We need to grab the Zapfish, get it home, and get the Elites to the surface. Send ‘em off to that...uh, what’s it called?”  
  
“Lady Katfish’s Home for Rehabilitating Octolings,” Agent 3 said clearly, “They’ll be safe there. Food, water, beds and education. They’ll come out able to handle the surface perfectly...” he smiled, “Feels great to get some good done for once.”  
  
“Mmm...” Eight sighed.  
  
“...You okay, Agent 8?” Cuttlefish asked.  
  
“He said bad egg...” she turned to face him, “Bad egg...is Marie. You see interview yesterday?”  
  
“Couldn’t take my eyes off it,” Cuttlefish droned, his voice hollow, “...My own granddaughter, saying sick stuff like that...”  
  
“Learned it from SOMEWHERE...” Agent 3 grumbled. Cuttlefish began to argue, but he paused, replying with a shrug and a look that screamed ‘fair enough’. 3 placed a hand on his shoulder, “It’s okay, Boss. If we could change thanks to Eight, so can she.”  
  
“I know,” Cuttlefish sighed, “I know my baby girl. She’s so kind, so calm. She’d never hurt a fly, never touch a drop of drink! She’s upset, I know, but she’s better than that. She just needs our help and comfort, right?” 3 and 8 nodded, “Stellar. Right, let’s get these girls into the truck...aww man, that sounded better in my head.”  
  
===  
  
All six? Was she really out of her coddamn mind to drink six of that swill? It was absolute torture getting the first one down and STAYING down, how on earth did she manage six?! Well, whatever way she did it, Marie was now feeling the consequences. She had awoken the morning after the interview. She knew she had a hangover. But NEVER one of this magnitude. She felt like she was being poisoned! She needed to get this stuff out NOW. She had got up and stumbled. To the bathroom, then...nope, wasn’t gonna make it! She turned tail and threw herself across the breakfast bar into the kitchen, collapsing at the sink.  
  
A worrying about of lime ink slammed into the once pristine sink, covering the counter with the splash. It felt like her insides were being totally minced as she violently horked up everything she had. The sink started to get a little full, why the hell did she put the plug in?! She ran out of stuff in her stomach, but she kept going. Bile, then nothing. Her stomach cramped itself trying to get all of the nothing out, but eventually, she ceased. Her knees buckled, her legs feeling like jelly. She managed to yank the chain and unplug the sink before she collapsed to the ground, the taste of bile in her throat.  
  
Did it at least get Callie out of her head?  
  
“Today’s newscast has been sponsored by Selman’s Seanut Butter! The top rated brand by Callie Cuttlefish!”  
  
OH SCREW YOU WORLD  
  
Marie couldn’t hold it in anymore. She threw a tiny tantrum, slamming her fists and feet into the wooden floor of the kitchen over and over for a short while. She didn’t care if the occupants below them were annoyed. Screw them. Eventually, her anger ran out and she lay still on the floor. And then came the sobs. They weren’t quiet, subdued sobs, but angry wails. Tears leaking from her eyes, snot dribbling from her nose, even small spatters of sick still lining her face. She curled into a ball, hugging her knees, sobbing pathetically into the floor. She felt like a total screwup. Actually, scratch that, she WAS a total screwup.  
  
“C-Callie!” she screamed wretchedly, sobbing some more into the small puddle already collecting around her head, “I’m sorry...I’m so sorry...s-sorry...sorry...”  
  
“ _ **It is okay, Marie. Give me time...soon, I shall relinquish you of your pain, forever...**_ ”  
  
She lay there for...way longer than she would ever admit to. An hour? Two? Either way, the sickness and the pain finally subsided, and she slowly got to her feet. Her TV was on. Odd, she didn’t remember switching it on. She decided to watch it. Dressed first, though. She wasn’t getting anything done in sick-soaked pajamas. Showered and dressed, she crumpled onto the couch, watching the TV. It was set to the news channel. Never seemed to be tuned to anything else. Not like there even was anything else to watch. Daytime TV was trash. Marie would know. She was on it.  
  
“Oh Pearl, your funny bone never runs dry!” Marina was giggling. Screw Marina and her giggle. She cleared her throat, “Anyway, we have some good news this week! I-I know, finally! The Great Zapfish has returned!” the picture on the screen shifted to the main tower in the Square. The Great Zapfish was indeed wrapped around it, still sporting its dorky smile.  
  
“Thank Cod,” Pearl smiled, “Now I don’t need to run the backup generator or tap into the neon sign outside to charge my phone.”  
  
“Wait you what-”  
  
“Eyewitnesses report that, while the name of the one who returned the Zapfish is not known, they have been said to be a free guy.”  
  
Agent 3, then. Chalk that up to another thing Agent 4 failed to do. Where was that useless brat, anyhow?  
  
KNOCK KNOCK  
  
Huh. A visitor. Marie got to her feet and stumbled over to the door, taking some time for painkillers and a swig of water on the way. She opened the door and looked down, “...What’re you doin’ here, Sheldon?”  
  
“That’s Agent 5 to you, Agent 2!” Sheldon beamed, quickly dusting off the patch sewn to his uniform.  
  
“...Since when have you been an Agent?!”  
  
“Since Cuttlefish got wind of me helping you and Agent 4 in...well, NEARLY saving Agent 1,” Sheldon trailed off, “Uh, whoops. Bad timing. But, yeah, he recognised my services and appointed me. I mean, we have an opening now, better restock the Splatoon. Said I had a great future as the group’s Armourer. I already have lots of plans for weapons. Ever felt like a Hero Zapper?”  
  
“...Sheldon, what the shell are you here for?”  
  
“Oh!” Sheldon jumped, “Well, I just...wanna talk. You look like you could do with the-”  
  
“I’m not interested buzz off.”  
  
“WAIT!” Sheldon cried as he dodge rolled into the room past the swiftly closing door. He got to his feet and sighed, “Marie, you need the company. You need someone to talk to, to vent to! I even closed the shop and said I was on lunch break just to see you. That’s what friends do, yeah?”  
  
“You are not my friend. You are a reminder of Four’s failure,” Marie opened the door, “Out.”  
  
“Ahh come on, Marie! I have lots to talk about that you might be interested in!” Sheldon protested, “New weapon designs, new skins and licensed deals, discovery of an actual working human firearm-”  
  
“I’M NOT INTERE...” Marie trailed off, “...Did you say, human firearm?”  
  
“Ye!” Sheldon said excitedly, “One of the old human designs from before they went extinct. I didn’t think any would survive to present day! They’re REALLY primitive! They fire little brass...things...uh bullets, yes! They propel little brass bullets via tiny explosions. Man, did they ever hear of lasers?”  
  
“...Sheldon?” Marie asked, door closed shut and now fully absorbed into the conversation, “Care to tell me how these...bullets, affect people?”  
  
“Uh, sure!” Sheldon started. And it was quite difficult to stop him when he started; “Well, uh bullets were designed to wound and kill humans by piercing into their body and hitting vital organs or just causing blood loss or even tear stuff in their arms and legs to render them non-functional. Now for us Inklings we don’t QUITE have the same loadout as humans; we have some of of their organs, some of their nervous system, but we lack their bones and a lot of areas are just composed of ink and the like. So a bullet wouldn’t do a whole lot of damage unless you pierced a vital organ; brain, heart, ink sac, that sorta thing. A shot anywhere else wouldn’t cause much damage but it would sure hurt like shell and cause great suffering. Why do you wanna know this any-” he stopped cold as the damning realisation dawned over him. He slowed down, “...Oh. That’s why you wanna know. To make-”  
  
“Those Octoslobs suffer, yes,” Marie grinned, “Where is it?”  
  
“Uh...I don’t know.”  
  
“Tell me.”  
  
“No seriously, I don’t know!”  
  
“Tell me!”  
  
“Marie I cannot trust you with that human gun who knows what’ll happen if I do I really shouldn’t have told you I need to get going back to my sho-URK!”  
  
Marie grabbed the little gremlin by the scuff of his neck and raised him to her eye level. She had to admit, it certainly felt good to see him squirm like that. She cleared her throat and put on a fake polite tone, “Sheldon, I will ask you one more time...” and then she exploded, “WHERE IS THE DAMN PAIN STICK?!”  
  
“Okay okay okay I’ll tell you just please don’t hurt me!” Sheldon pleaded. That was good enough for Marie, who dropped him. He fell to the floor with thump and he got up, rubbing his neck, “Man, you got a grip. When did you get so strong?!”  
  
“TALK.”  
  
“Alright, alright!” Sheldon sighed, “...I’m gonna regret telling you this. But...here’s where it is...”


	5. Widowmaker

Area 2. Breakers Depot. Of course it’d be there.  
  
Marie took a deep swig of the Octoscotch as she studied the land before her. Lord knows whatever convinced her to buy more, despite her sickness. But there was a sort of...need, planted in her head. And she had to admit, it went down a lot better the second time, now she was used to it. Maybe it was that old human expression, Hair of the Dog, that cleaned her hangover up. That, or the filthy atmosphere of the Canyon made it feel more reasonable. Clad in old Agent gear - hoodie, hat, headmask, hobbled shoes - she studied the old location coldly. A month or so back, this was the second place she and Agent 4 had scoured for Callie’s location and the Great Zapfish. It was one giant industrial district, guarded by the fearsome Octo Samurai. It was a simpler time, back then. When Marie would watch Agent 4 battle through the Octoling forces. Back when Agent 4 wasn’t a repulsive failure in her eyes.  
  
Back when...Callie was still alive.  
  
But that was then. This was now. The remaining Octos needed punishing. And Sheldon, through an application of greater force, had spilled the beans on a way to do it properly. He found it in one of the warehouses Agent 4 had previously cleared, buried under a ton of boxes. He didn’t have time to fish it out from under the wreckage, just enough to confirm that yes, it WAS a human firearm. Marie slithered through the warehouse, a Hero Blaster by her side. She couldn’t touch another Charger. Not yet.

Sheldon had left explicit instructions to find its location in the warehouse. After all, the Octarians had no need for it, and Marie wondered if they even had the brainpower to recognise what it was. So it was still there for the taking. She rounded a few more corners, and stopped. This was where Sheldon said it would be. So she grabbed the crowbar secured to her back, and took to jimmying a few crates loose. They did so, and tumbled into a small heap before her. She sighed, grabbing the first one and-WOAH! With the strength she normally used to slowly lift a heavy crate to standing, she had flung the thing through the air; it shattered on the wall, spraying rotten potatoes across the floor. Wow, Sheldon was right. When did Marie get so strong?! She picked the next one up a touch more carefully, slowly setting that one aside. And then another. And another. And then, she found it.

  
It was a plastic-ish carry case, scratched and faded from the years gone by. Its name scribbled on in white paint. She undid the latches, then creaked the case open. Black, synthetic body. Straight stock. A scope on the top. Bolt action. A magazine in the box, with twenty rounds of ammo to spare; “5.56x39mm”, supposedly. Whatever that meant. A large, imposing barrel, ending in a cylinder with a few holes cut out of either side. Even an instruction manual.  
  
Marie gasped softly as she took the gun in her hands, and hauled it out of the box. She looked it over, turning it to see the other side. An extension on the right side...hmm, that LOOKED like a magazine well. She had only ever seen guns like this in pictures. Never in person. But she had one now. The ItoTech...Type 26s. Hmm. It needed a better name than that. One that would strike fear into the Octoscum’s hearts, even if it was a little cliche.  
  
...Widowmaker. She raised the gun dramatically into the dusty light; it would be christened the Widowmaker. Now, time to use it.  
  
Of course, she had no idea where to even start with it. She reached down into the box and pulled out the manual. She blinked at it a few times. It was in Human. Specifically the language known as Japanese. Inklings couldn’t read human. Well, not many could, she should say. Marie herself never bothered to learn it, she didn’t think she’d ever need it. She grumbled staring at the gibberish...but, was it though? The more she stared at the manual, the more the writing came into a sort of focus. She could understand Human?! Since when? Well, whatever. No need to look a gift seahorse in the mouth.  
  
 _Okay...let’s see...load the magazine by loading five rounds into top, bullet forward. Bullet? Oh, must mean the pointy bit! Click, click, click, click, click. Easy.  
  
Load the magazine into the magazine well on the right side of the gun. Push it in until you hear a click. Click. There we go.  
  
Grab the bolt handle, move it up, move the bolt backwards, forwards and downwards to chamber a round. Uh...click. Man, this thing’s stiff. KA-CHUNK, tick.  
  
...Oh, right, safety. Just like on the Hero Charger. Ka-click._  
  
Marie smiled. It was ready. Time to dispense justice on the people who murdered Callie. She exited the warehouse and peered down the road. Three Octoling Elites were taking a break, shades off to the side. They too had bottles of Octoscotch. The first took a swig, cursing as the effects hit her, then she passed the bottle to her sisters. Marie knelt down, far from them. She looked through the scope, pressed right near her eye for clarity. She aimed at the closest; the Elite seemed unaware of the rifle pointed at her head. Marie grinned devilishly. She fired.  
  
A pained scream echoing through the Canyon proved the Squidster had failed to take the concept of recoil into consideration.  
  
===  
  
“Jeez, Marie...” Agent 3 sighed as he dabbed at the wound, “Did you shove one of those big novelty erasers into your eye?!”  
  
“Buzz off, Agent 3,” Marie growled grumpily, lying on the supplied medical liner and twitching as Agent 4 poured some water into her lazily open mouth. It didn’t take long for at least two of the Agents to come find her after she found the time to stop screaming and activate her distress beacon. They calmed down the nearby Octolings, got them to the surface, and hauled Marie back to the outpost. Agent 4 HAD to come along for this one; after all, Agent 3 had no memory of the Canyon, never mind any idea how to traverse it.  
  
Agent 4 herself was slowly skittering around Marie, tending to some of her wounds. She dared not look at her in the eyes, a guilty look spreading across her face. Marie couldn’t even muster up the force to do likewise. She had seen so very little of Agent 4 since the funeral. For the better, in her eyes. She always seemed to be a bit of a flounder, really. Impatient, impulsive, incredibly annoying. Always lost at least ONE life in each stage, even the really easy ones Agent 3 could have cleared with both hands behind his back and his Hero Shot clasped in his teeth! She always could have been better somewhere! And if she was just that little bit faster, just that little bit better...  
  
“HEY!” Agent 3 called out, snapping his fingers in front of Marie’s slack gaze, “Don’t pass out on me just yet, I gotta see the damage you’ve done. Well, there’s a whole lot of bruising around it and even some impact ON the eye, but I can’t tell how deep it’s gone. What even is that thing?!”  
  
“Human...firearm...” Marie grumbled, “Sheldon...told me.”  
  
Agent 3 made quite the expression. Marie continued to stare at him. Obviously she wasn’t going to tell him she bullied the information out of him. Why would she? Nevertheless, Agent 3 seemed to be angry with this revelation, what with the deep sigh he made, “Marie, listen...” he pointed to the tartar-scar, “I have had to deal with the fallout of humanity before, and it damn near killed me! The Splatoon was not established to repeat the flaws of the humans. That’s what Gramps said.”  
  
“Screw Gramps...” Marie bit back, pausing to take a swig of her booze.  
  
There was a clink as Agent 3 tore the bottle from her hands. He took a whiff of it, and recoiled, “And what is this?”  
  
“OctoScotch...” Marie mumbled, “...Pearl’s idea.”  
  
“Pearl?!” Agent 3 said incredulously, “...What’s gotten into you, Marie? You’ve become agitated, violent, a drunk...”  
  
“Well EXCUSE ME-” Marie spat bitterly, “My coddamn cousin’s dead! And SHE...” she pointed to Agent 4, “Killed her!”  
  
“I didn’t...”  
  
“What was that, murderer?”  
  
Agent 4 stared up at Marie, her eye leaking a single tear, “Marie...I did NOT kill her...you did. With help.”  
  
“What...” Marie stopped. She growled. She slowly got to her feet, “Did you say to me?”  
  
“M-Marie...” Agent 4 whimpered, shivering slightly, “You don’t understand! There’s so much more to this!”  
  
“Yes, there’s YOU!” Marie growled, “You were always a screwup, Four.”  
  
“Marie,” 3 said sternly, “You’re just angry. Calm down and we can take this more rationally.”  
  
Agent 4 sighed, “Where do you think I’ve been this last month? Why do you think you haven’t seen me in all that time?”  
  
“Wallowing in your own uselessness?”  
  
“...She’s been in therapy, Marie,” 3 sighed, “Physical and otherwise.”  
  
“...You think, it was EASY for me to see Cal die like that?” Agent 4 trembled, “I’ve had to see three people for it. THREE, Marie! Every time I sleep I see that in gruesome detail. I remember losing my e-” she stopped to quiver, “M-My eye...”  
  
“...So what of it?”  
  
“I remember the details,” Agent 4 whined, “And you weren’t alone in the shot. Someone set you up, Marie! Someone-”  
  
“Argh, enough with the excuses!” Marie growled, “You’re just trying to cover up for the fact that this is YOUR fault!”  
  
“Marie, stand down!” Agent 3 called out, “That’s just denial talking. You had a part to play in this, you have to accept it!”  
  
“NO!” Marie bellowed childishly, jumping to her feet, “Look, if you two aren’t gonna be helpful, then push off!” she waved her hand fiercely at them, “Go do some more Recon or whatever, if you’re just gonna throw excuses and accusations at me! I’ve got more important things to do. Like nursing this thing so I don’t end up like you, Cyclops!”  
  
“MARIE!” Agent 3 yelled.  
  
“M-Marie...” Agent 4 repeated, a quiver to her voice, “I was...I-I was just...I was tryin’ to help...”  
  
“And you failed!” Marie spat back, her voice booming with the force of a Killer Wail blast, “You failed to save Callie, you failed to save the Zapfish, you FAILED to defeat Octavio!” she arched closer, staring the Agent dead in the eye, “You were always a failure. And no amount of making stuff up on your part is gonna change that...”  
  
She said no more, wandering off towards the grate back to the city with the rifle clutched in hand, swiping the bottle from Agent 3’s hands on the way. Agent 3 noticed that Marie’s walking lacked any semblance of grace. Whereas previously she walked with a sway in her hips, here she stomped and stumbled, hunched over. Like she was going to collapse at any point. Which, fair point, she HAD just been rammed in the face pretty hard. She’d have a concussion...if she had a skull, but whatever. Taking a final look at the two Agents, she turned and dropped into the grate, back into the city.  
  
Agent 3 started on just a little longer, a pale, ashen look on his face. How could Marie act like this? How could there have been a change this drastic? What had happened while he was away? He sighed, and he turned to Agent 4. He was ready to say some positive stuff, get her back on her feet after the ribbing Marie had given her...but he saw her take her headset off and throw it to the ground with an anguished cry. It snapped in two as it slammed into the floor, a painful sound of cracking plastic resonating through the Canyon. She stared up at Agent 3, tears leaking from her eye;  
  
“I d-...I-I don’t...I don’t want to be an Agent anymore...”  
  
And with that, she began to cry, thankfully soft sobs compared to the emotional outbursts of days gone past. Agent 3 sighed, slowly wandering over and dragging the squid into a hug. He wrapped his arms around her torso, and she clung to him like she was afraid of being washed away in a storm, sniffling into his shoulder. He said nothing, only rubbing small circles across her back to calm her down. She was buckling under her own weight, sagging down on Agent 3’s body. But he didn’t care.  
  
“It’s okay...” Agent 3 soothed, “It’s okay. I’ll let Craig know you wanna drop out. And when I know you’re comfortable...I’m gonna find that crazed Idol again. And I’m gonna straighten her out. Whatever it takes.”  
  
===  
  
“Things seem a different shade of Colour...” *URP* “From the grey and lonely day...” *HIC* “The world comes alive, the music begins to play...”  
  
Marie continued to approach some form of drunken singing as she stumbled through the dark alleys. She didn’t know, couldn’t remember, how long she had been out after fished from the Canyon by the Agents. How much more of that dreadful scotch she had consumed. She wasn’t even sure where she was. Couldn’t even feel her way. Not like she could feel anything at all at this point. Not even her wounded eye, pulsating and bleeding.  
  
It was night, that much was certain. A cool breeze complimenting the darkened shadows of the city’s back streets. She didn’t recognise the street itself. Had some good shops, some cafes. All shut, this late at night. Even the takeaways weren’t open at this point.  
  
She was alone.  
  
Always...alone.  
  
Her legs gave out on her and she collapsed into a heap by the side of the road. She was sobbing, hands pathetically clutched around a bottle half-empty, tipped just enough for a sliver of the remains to fall to the tarmac and run to the sewer. Might clean any coins people had lost down there, she supposed. But even so, she wrestled with her thoughts as she lay on the kerb. She was right. She WAS alone. She had cleanly pushed away everyone who ever attempted to be nice to her, for reasons before and after Callie’s passing. All were gone.  
  
She was nothing.  
  


“You're not nothing, Marie...”

Marie looked up at the sudden sound. The voice, it was so...familiar. It couldn't be. Right? RIGHT?! But she looked closer. A soft, comforting glow enveloped her. In front of, in glorious white light...it was her. A spirit, somewhat obviously. Transparent, frail and pale. Wearing a white gown, beautiful flowers in her hair. She looked so calm, and yet...so sad. She was looking down, staring sadly at the fallen Squid Sister, eyeing the half-empty bottle and upturned rifle. She sighed.

"...C-Callie!" Marie smiled for the first time in what felt like forever and got to her feet. She was crying, a sort of extreme relief slowly washing over here. She rushed forward and tried to hug the spirit; she went through, but she didn't care; "CALLIE! You're alive..."

"Sorta..." Callie sighed, returning the hug somewhat. A cold feeling washed over Marie's back. Callie grumbled silently, "Thanks to you."

Marie stopped the hug and looked back into Callie's eyes, her own welling with tears, "Callie, you gotta understand! I-It was an accident, I swear! I-"

"No. No excuses..." Callie shook her head tiredly. She looked up to Marie, a look of worry in her eyes, "What's done is...done. I just wanna see you be happy. You need to...forget me, Marie."

"Wh-What?!"

"I'm not coming back, Marie. I'm not really here, I'm not really me. The old me, the REAL me...she's still in Sandy Shores. I'm nothing more than a figment."

"Don't say that, PLEASE don't say that!" Marie screamed, her pleas and begging painfully emotional, "We can go back to the old times, y-yeah? You and me? Please?" 

"No...your mind, Marie! It's...it's shattering! There is so little of the old you, left! The Octolings, your bias...you're driving yourself crazy..."

"I don't understand!" Marie gibbered softly, "I'm...I-I'm not crazy!"

  
A soft chuckle from a hard voice, “ _ **They all say the same...Little Moth.**_ ”  
  
Marie stopped, frozen. That voice was...scarred. Mechanical. Deep and echoing. Markus looked up in a sort of twisted anticipation. Callie looked to Marie with her piercing gaze, “He has arrived...” and she stood up. She stumbled to a certain part in the middle of the road. A new figure joined her, some sort of dragon-like beast with a single long tendril. Then another, a Judd-like creature with a robotic arm. Then another figure, spiked and covered in blue cloth and red wool. Another. Another still. An entire swarm of twisted humanoid creatures from far-off worlds, gathered in front of the floored Squid Sister. And then, with a viscous howl and spray of purple mist, a massive figure emerged from the deathly shadows.  
  
A colossal figure, wrapped in a dark blue cloak that covered all. Scribbles and writings from era gone long by, etched into his robes. A hood, containing all but shadow and two pin-prick red eyes. Chains and collections littering the body. Sharp claws jutting out of the sleeves. One was wrapped around a golden staff, ramshackle in looks and with a chipped and dirtied purple gem sitting atop it. A buckle in the middle holding parts of the cloak together, a symbol displayed upon it; an eye, carved with straight lines, accentuated with a border of more of the same. The howl was deafening, his looks bringing pure horror into Marie’s mind as she stared at the alien creature hovering above her.  
  
“What the shell!?” Marie gasped, struggling to get to her feet, “Who are you?! WHO ARE ANY OF YOU?!”  
  
“ _ **I am no Inkling..**_.” the cloaked figure boomed, “ _ **I am no Octoling. Nor am I even human. I...am.**_ ”  
  
“Gaze upon your new master,” one of the figments gibbered, “For he and I are one and the same, untold time apart. I am Markus. But he is...”  
  
“ ** _Karsum..._** ” the cloaked figure growled, his very sneer sending shivers down the Squidster’s spine.  
  
“Go away!” Marie roared, “I don’t want to hear any of your spiel!”  
  
“ _ **I am not here to gloat,**_ ” Karsum growled in return, “ _ **I am here to...educate. Do you not know what gift you have been blessed with, Little Moth? The burgeoning power slowly blossoming inside you?**_ ”  
  
“...No!?”  
  
“ _ **As anticipated. Your wound, it blinds you from the truth...**_ ” he chuckled menacingly, “ _ **Somewhat literally. No matter. For you as a pawn under me, it is nothing I cannot fix...**_ ”  
  
Karsum reached out with his staff, aiming it towards the Squid Sister’s bruised and broken eye. Marie could not move, frozen in fear by the force this being exerted. The staff was pressed into her face, covering her eye, and a searing pain ruptured through her head. She screamed and swatted wildly into the night as the pain bubbled away across her skin, her head inflamed with wails and whispers, before the staff was pulled away. Marie fell to the ground, gasping, panicking. But the pain lingers for only slightly longer, and soon vanished. And her eye felt...fine. There was no bruise, no bleeding. She stared into the puddle to her side. Her eye was fixed! But it was still...weird. The same as days before, a black eye with white pupil. Only now the pupil was softly changing colour. To a sort of...pinkish-red.  
  
Marie looked up, “I don’t...I don’t understand. What’s happening to me?!”  
  
“ _ **You are being slowly integrated into something bigger than any...Splatfest,**_ ” Marie could practically hear the venom in Karusm’s voice as he said such a word, “ _ **Beyond the Turf Wars and the Octarian forces. You are being introduced into my...family,**_ ” he looked around at those who surrounded him. He reached down to the dragoness and ran a claw softly across her cheek, “ _ **For those who suffer, as I did so long ago.**_ ”  
  
“I’ll get ‘em!” Marie threatened, raising her bottle up like a weapon, “I’ve had my fair share of fights!”  
  
“ _ **Do not bother,**_ ” Karsum dismissed, “ _ **They are merely copies. Memories of their form, burned into your brain for the sake of clarity. My children exist throughout all of time and space. The world, and the worlds beyond, they are MINE to watch over. Waiting. For the next person who has been kicked to the ground, and the world expects MORE.**_ ”  
  


“What are you saying?!” Marie screamed, grabbing her head in pain with her off-hand. She gibbered, “They're not here? E-Even...”

"I am...his creation..." Callie sighed softly, staring longingly at Marie, "I'm sorry, Marie. He wanted someone he knew you were comfortable with. He wants you to be happy, Marie..."

“ _ **Indeed...**_ ” Karsum sighed, dismissing the ghost with a wave of his hand. The spirit vanished like mist in the night sky, " _ **A shame it failed to work.**_ "

Marie screamed in mental agony, "You...HOW DARE YOU?! I thought I had her back! I THOUGHT I-"

" _ **Relax...**_ " Karsum growled, “ _ **I understand your pain, and suffering. I know why you do not. Few do. But you will. In time. For that is all it is. Just a matter...**_ ” he arched close, his eyes staring deep into Marie’s, “ _ **OF TIME...**_ ”

  
Marie couldn’t take it. This man, this...creature, whatever it was. There was only a sense of horrific dread running through her, at the mere sight of him. She was already at wits end from the deaths and the Agents and the reporter Octoling SCUM...she felt like her head was going to burst.  
  
“STOP IT!!!” she screamed, “Get out of my head! I can’t...” her legs gave out again. She curled up into a ball, clutching her head, shivering violently, ”I JUST WANT MY COUSIN BACK!!!”  
  
“ _ **Try to fight it all you want,**_ ” Karsum chuckled darkly, “ ** _Not that it matters. You are not ready. Not yet. But you will be. I think you will make a wonderful addition to my family, Little Moth. I promise...no-one will hurt you ever again..._** ” he towered over Marie a final time, his voice even more demonic than before, “ _ **SEE YOU SOON~**_ ”  
  
Marie awoke.  
  
There was no Markus. No Karsum. None of his acolytes. Just a softly-shadowed figure shaking her awake.  
  
“Marie!” the voice was familiar this time, at least, “Wake up, luv! Are you okay?”  
  
“Spike...” Marie grumbled, looking up. Her vision cleared, a blurry mess of spikes once again appearing in her view. Only this time, it slowly formed into a similar face. The one of Spike, close friend and clothing manager of sorts.   
  
He shook her again, “What’re you doing out here on the street? You taken anythin’?” she could see him take the Widowmaker in his hands, "An' what the shell is THIS!?"  
  
“Spike...” Marie grumbled again, shielding the stinging sun from her eyes. It was morning...somehow. Had she passed out? It was a cold morning, frost forming on the curb. She felt a pair of hands reach under her and help her to her feet. She felt...drained. Exhausted. Sick. Like something building up and she couldn’t explain it. She struggled to breath as her legs struggled to hold her upright, only able to get out, “...T-Thank you, Spike.”  
  
“No problem, I guess...” Spike sighed, “You are CLEARLY not in good shape. Come on, let’s get you down the hospital, get you some meds. Steady now...”  
  
With a grunt, he began to assist the limping Marie away from the street, towards the hospital. Get some medication, some warm food, perhaps even a clean bed if she needed it. He could see...something in her eyes. A dark, clouded grief. Tears running down her face. A soft gibber in her voice. She was sick. And he could only hope she could better before the worst could happen.  
  
If only he was able to see the flashes. The soft click of a camera in the distance, catching every image of the Squid Sister collapsed in the street, of being carried away by the urchin man. The Octoling behind the camera smiled deviously.  
  
“You see...unlike many others, I do not wait for the news to come to me. I do not merely wait for the agents to hand me the pre-approved publicity stunt, I TAKE what I desire. She thinks she can hide the truth from me. About what she did to her cousin. But I...no, WE know the truth.”   
  
“Or at least, the truth those Inkling brats will want to hear before long…you’re doing a good job, Finnley. Keep it up.”  
  
“Whatever you say, Aldus. Long as I keep gettin’ paid for this...”


	6. City of Crimson Colour

“Good afternoon! You know what time it is!”  
  
“It is time, for SPLAT AM, live from New Inkshire Central! She’s Cadence.”  
  
“And HE’S Crescendo! Now, before we get to the stage rotations, we have some actual news for you.”  
  
“Indeed we do, Cadence. Breaking News! It has now been a week since the funeral of the beloved and deeply missed Callie Cuttlefish, and preparations for her wake have finally come to fruition. Last night, grandfather to the Sisters, Craig Cuttlefish, announced a send-off celebration for the fallen Idol for Sunday.”  
  
“Buried on Monday, Wake on Sunday...wasn’t that a human poem?”  
  
“The process will be carried out at the Shellendorf Institute, funded not only by her cousin Marie but also the duo Off the Hook. The celebration is open to the public, and tickets went on sale after the announcement. Indeed, they already seem to have sold out in places.”  
  
“In other news; Marie Cuttlefish, relative of the deceased, has been making the rounds at the rumour mill over the past week. From her explosive temper during her interview, showcasing a racist attitude towards Octoling kind, to rumours of an affair with retailer Spike through secret photographs, the idol has had a rough week showcasing a truly awful side of herself. Social Media site Twipple has been in meltdown over her actions and attitude. A somewhat rather serious rumour has even begun to circulate that she was the one to end her cousin’s life! If nothing else, her appearance at tonight’s event to see her cousin off into the afterlife will certainly be something special.”  
  
“That was the news, alright! Time for stage rotations! First, the Turf War stages-”  
  
The TV clicked off as Marie grumpily threw a dress over it. She grumbled through a mouthful of the foul-smelling OctoScotch; this was NOT how she wanted the news world to see her. As a drunk. As a bully. Did these clownfish not see the pain she was in?! Couldn’t they offer her some SYMPATHY?! Growling, she eyed the red dress now hanging solidly off the TV. Too small. Not her colour. Next.  
  
She reached for a black one, draping it over herself. She was barely dressed as it was, just in a tank top and shorts. Her hair was a mess, barely coherent. Saggy flaps of darkened skin under her eyes, indicative of little sleep, and an unmistakable quiver to her lips. She would never say her emotions would ever get the better of her, but at this point she couldn’t help but be wrong. The dress was nice, at least. Black, a bit of white trim, some sequins, a...collar? Okay. She looked at herself in the mirror. She huffed, and threw the dress to the side. Too bleak, too miserable. Complimented the stuffy, drunken hag in the mirror too well. NEXT.  
  
She sighed, pausing in her actions and moving away from the mound of rented dresses to collapse on the couch. Long gone were the days she would sit prim and properly on it, instead taking to splaying out across it like a rug, sipping more of the fetid booze from a silver flask. She remembered the flask. Callie got it for her as a gift, when she went on holiday to the Crayfish Isles. Nice place. Lots of sun. But it was now one of the few things of hers that Marie had left. At least, that she dared to even look at...  
  
She took another sip and sighed. This was normally the time when someone would turn up to check on her, see if she needed anything. Made sure she was okay. Sometimes it was Agent 3. Sometimes it was her Gramps. Once it was Agent 4. ONLY once. But they didn’t come ‘round now. Not after everything she said and done. They avoided her like Marina did. Only one person would be serious and/or stupid enough to keep in contact with her now.  
  
“I’m here Marie!”  
  
“...Come in...”  
  
A ghostly whisper signified the arrival as the Squid Sister’s body slowly swam through the door. Ghost Cal. Yep. That was a thing now. Never had a nice thing to say. Always sad and disapproving. To finally have her back and it was always doom and gloom. Could never be happy they were...reunited in some fashion. Was she real? A hallucination? At this point either seemed possible. And it was wretched knowing she was not able to tell the difference anymore.  
  
“Marie...” Callie began, her voice echoing slightly even within the densely-packed room, “It...it’s been a week.”  
  
“You think I don’t know that?!” Marie spat back, her brow furrowed and her supple lips flicking drops of the scotch around. Callie remained quiet from the outburst, as Marie took the time to slowly recollect herself. She started back up again, “It’s been...a week. A WEEK, without you. Missing you. NO-ONE on my side, they...oh Cod it’s been so hard.”  
  
“I know it has, Marie...” Callie whined as Marie slowly sunk to the floor in despair. She ran a faint finger down the squid’s cheek to catch a tear; a cold shiver flushed across Marie’s face, but the tear continued to fall to the floor. Callie resumed, “But, you cannot continue like this. I beg of you.”  
  
Marie stared up at the Squidster’s ghost, her face a mess, “Well, what d’ya want me to do?”  
  
“...Go to the send-off party. End my legacy, and let me pass on.”  
  
Marie grumbled, staring back down at the floor. She paused, and took another swig of the booze, “I don’t wanna. I just wanna stay in bed...eat seanut butter. Forget this week ever happened. I don’t wanna go. I’ll have to talk to...all THEM.”  
  
“They’re looking out for you, Marie...”  
  
“Says who?” Marie shot back, “The voice in my head?!”  
  
“You need to go, Marie...” the ghost pressed on, placing her hands on her cousin’s shoulders, with a chill as cold as the grave racing down the latter’s back, “You must do the send off. You must...let me go. Before your grief consumes you...before you’re claimed by that beast.”  
  
“Karsum?” Marie looked up again, bleary-eyed. Callie took a few seconds to stare into the now deeply pink gaze of her fellow, and then silently nodded. Marie waved her dismissal, “How do I know you ain’t one of his hallucinations again? You were last time!” Callie said nothing, instead staring at Marie with her sorrowful gaze. Marie stared down, in cold reflection. Perhaps she was right. Perhaps letting go would deny that Karsum lunatic his...whatever he wanted. She slowly stood up, dusting herself off, “...Alright. I’ll go. Which dress?”  
  
“Green...” Callie pointed to a green dress poking out of the bottom of the pile. It was a deep, velvety green. Lovely stitching and details. Callie looked up, “It suits you.”  
  
===  
  
“ _ **This is it. Shellendorf Institute. The Send-Off Party. The End.**_ ”  
  
“ _Oh yeah? But of who?_ ”  
  
“ ** _We shall see._** ”  
  
Marie was vaguely sober as she waltzed into the Institute. She passed the wonderful glass doors, danced around the circular cutout on the floor that would normally reveal one of the Respawn Pads, and stopped to stare at the sight surrounding her. Normally there were two sides to the Institute. One, an actual museum where the slack-jawed Inklingkind could stare blankly at the records of days gone past on display. The other, a battleground where those same...things would merrily blast ink at fragile, priceless exhibits to prove their superiority. But now, for once, it would finally have some class in the proceedings.  
  
The Institute, considering its history, was beautiful. Wooden floors, gold and brass inlays. Stunning architecture that swirled and swooned and danced across the walls and roof. Exhibits lined the main hall, normally showcasing ancient artefacts of those who had long gone by. Now, however, the ceremony resulted in a lot of tables scattered across the hall. They were full of small nibbles of varying types and sizes, some obviously a result of a catering job from one Crusty Sean, and bowls of punch and cola scattered elsewhere. The artefacts and bones inside the exhibits had been removed, and in their places were a good deal of items related to the fallen Squid Sister. Her clothing, her stage outfit and hat, even her favourite pair of sunglasses. All donated from the Cuttlefish family, in a way Marie only barely remembered. Green and magenta ribbons and sashes hung from the walls, and faint music played over the speakers.  
  
A slow, sad remix of Bomb Rush Blush.  
  
Oh, hell.  
  
Marie tugged at her dress, a pang of nausea slowly washing over her from the sounds of the music. It was a nice dress, at least, as perfect as Callie’s ghost said it was. A lovely green, gold stitching, quilted skirt, modest when it came to showing her chest. She wore black lipstick, mascara, earrings, a set of opera gloves, green heels, a necklace, bracelets...she was beautiful. But the outside cleanliness could but hide the filth she felt inside. Barely sane, she reckoned. She felt like she was gonna explode. Sail over the edge. And this music wasn’t helping.  
  
She was slapped out of her musings by a soft touch on her shoulder. She turned to look at who touched her, blinking wildly as her eyes shifted in and out of focus. No, she didn’t even bother to use glasses to hide those infernal things anymore. Sickness was enough of an excuse. It was Agent 3 and Captain Cuttlefish standing before her. Both in suits, 3’s a standard black with dark green tie and Cuttlefish’s green with a black tie. How fitting. Cuttlefish continued to wear his trademark hat, whilst 3 was wearing his tentacles in the standard ponytail style - perhaps a style he hadn’t worn since the Valley days. He even let his scar show, for all to see.  
  
“Hey there, Marie!” Cuttlefish said happily, signing for Marie to kneel. She did, and he gave her a hug, “How’s my granddaughter doin’?”  
  
“Hey Gramps...” Marie sighed, returning the hug, her arms shivering, “I’m fine. You know how it is.”  
  
“I know...” Cuttlefish sighed, “I miss her too. So dearly so. But, this is what this is all for! To send her off...into the...” he sniffled, “Sorry. It’s hard to say goodbye to her. I know how it must feel.”  
  
“Hopefully when she has been properly...honoured,” Agent 3 said stoically, “We can start a new chapter of the Splatoon. In her memory. It’s what she would have wanted.”  
  
“Well, we better get on with the proceedings, eh?” Cuttlefish chuckled, breaking from the hug and returning to Agent 3’s side, “We hope you enjoy what we set up, Marie.”  
  
The two walked off further into the main hall. Marie sighed, already feeling a pounding sensation in her head. Looking over the ceremony, she could see...them. So many of them. Suckers on the outside. Little fanged teeth. Improper eyes. Spiked, claw-like hands and toes. The tall one in mint dress alongside her small Inkling partner. Octolings. The ENEMY-  
  
“Calm yourself...” Marie grumbled, taking all of her will to steady herself. She clenched her hands into fists and shivered, “I am NOT gonna let that Karsum win me like some toy...even if I have to deal with that scum...”. She plunged a hand into an opening on the side of her dress, and tugged on something attached to the inside. She pulled it out; it was a silver flask, cheaper than the one Callie gave her. One of MANY stashed on her person, each and every one filled with OctoScotch. She took a quick sip of the drink and winced as it thrashed around her mouth and down her gullet. She sighed wistfully, “...S’ not like you’re gonna be flying this sober or anything...”  
  
===  
  
The rest of the evening was a blur. Marie skittered to and fro, throughout the proceedings. The stream of booze from flasks stashed on her person never seemed to slow. It was a miracle she didn’t rattle while she walked, she was carrying so many of the damn things. And every small annoyance, every irritating sound piece, out came another flask. And then another. And another still. All punctuated by a long, drawn-out sip and some coughing as the wretched swill went down and (mostly) stayed down. It did not take long for people to notice as they went about the party, checking out the exhibits and paying respect to Callie.  
  
Only a few events flittered in and out of Marie’s scarred, boozed-up memory. One was when Cuttlefish and Marina took to the stage to debate Callie’s impact on the city and the music industry. She was fairly sure it devolved into a rap battle between Cuttlefish and Pearl, oddly enough. Another was catching Agent 3 and Agent 8 scurry off to the back alley to, uh...”get to know each other”. And yet...something still remained. The people were staring at her. With looks of fear. Looks of anger. Looks of sadness. Some looked at her like she was some...killer. They said nothing. Only judged silently. Did they really believe that stuff she said on TV? Of the spiel that rancid Octoling made up for her?!  
  
Something snapped Marie out of her drunken stupor. She remembered, she was talking to someone, and out of the corner of her eye, she saw...him. Finn. The scumbag. She took a not-at-all subtle sip of her flask and snapped the lid closed, belched out an “Excuse me...” and stumbled blindly over to the man. He was talking to Agent 8, of all people.  
  
“But...why would you do that? Why would he-”  
  
“Miss Eight, your boyfriend is kind of...a bogeyman, in our world. He butchered thousands. People tremble when they hear his name. But for the moment, our interests align somewhat. So what’s a few dead family members between friends, huh?”  
  
“What are you doing here, Finn?”  
  
Finn didn’t skip a single beat, “And what are YOU doing here, cousin killer?”  
  
“I DID NOT-”  
  
“Sssh...” Finn shushed her, “We all know. Or, they all know. You’d be surprised how quickly people latch onto a story in a midst of a wave of grief.”  
  
“You...” Marie growled, enraged, “How are you getting away with this?!”  
  
“Because the people you fought for are dumb, gullible and afraid,” Finn boasted, “My people, we fought to survive. You fight for condiments. You’re children. You need a little...direction. Pointed squarely at the people who went in to salt the wound.”  
  
“I-”  
  
“Don’t bother. I have everything I need to show the world how evil your kind is. I have my evidence, I have my suspect, I have my means of delivering the info. And...I have my witness.”  
  
“Witness?”  
  
“THERE SHE IS, ARTHUR!”  
  
A clomp of boots, alongside a soft clattering of heels. Two Inklings, adult height, another smaller one in tow. The male, brown tentacles cut short, moustache, blue eyes, dark suit with green tie. The female, bright yellow tentacles done up in a bow, pretty white dress and opera gloves. And the smaller, burnt amber coloured Inkling...it was Gail! In an amber dress with white silk not-corset. A flower in her hair. A simple eyepatch. Oh boy, this wasn’t good.  
  
“Excuse me, do I know you?”  
  
“KNOW ME?!” the man exploded, “My name is Arthur Corliss. And this is my wife, Melody.”  
  
“And THIS...” Melody said, placing a hand on the punch-drinking young Inkling, “Is Gail. Our daughter.”  
  
Marie stopped cold. A shock she hadn’t felt since she saw Callie’s sprawled out body on the concrete arena floor. Daughter? These were her parents?! Did they know of everything she put Gail through?! Marie grumbled, it was time for the Emergency Supply. She slowly dragged a large bottle of the fetid swill from Cod knows where, and chugged it in front of the enraged father.   
  
“What is the meaning of this?” came Cuttlefish’s voice from across the hall. He stumbled to the fray, Agent 3 in tow, “Who are you? What’s going on?”  
  
“What’s going on, Sir, is what your little band of boy scouts deserve!” Arthur growled. He took a letter out of his pocket and gave it to Cuttlefish to read. He could only squint at the wording, far too small and neat for him to comfortably see. It took some time to finally shift into focus...and it was bad news. He raised his head to complain, but Arthur stopped him, “Yes, legal action. You have enough standing as a company through your headwear sales, you get sued for all the Hell you put those poor kids through!”  
  
“You take our children,” Melody said, tears leaking from her eyes as she held Gail close, “You throw them into a warzone! You make them fight for their very lives and damn the consequences when they get hurt! And you don’t say a WORD of this to their parents?! How must that other one feel, huh? Look at his face, look at that SCAR! What did you do to him?!”  
  
“How long have you been at this, huh?” Arthur got into Marie’s face, “How long have you been torturing my baby girl? Blaming her for your murder of your own cousin?!” Marie stopped cold again. Only this time, a furious anger slowly build up inside of her, “That’s right! We can all see it, you talentless bint! THEY told us everything!”  
  
“They?” Cuttlefish asked slowly. The realisation dawned on him. They weren’t just referring to the smug-looking Octoling in the snazzy suit. They were referring to... “...Rideu! How could you?!”  
  
“I had to,” Agent 3 grumbled, “After seeing what Marie’s attitude was doing to 4, I had to tell them about it.”  
  
“You turncoat, 3!” Marie bellowed, “This is ALL 4’s fault and you know it!”  
  
“She is NOT ‘4’,” Arthur bellowed back, “She is Gail Corliss, she is MY daughter! I love her more than the stars in the coddamn sky and I will NOT stand aside as some washed-up old pop star ruins her life!”  
  
“MY CODDAMN COUSIN’S DEAD!” Marie screamed, “Give me some slack!”  
  
“That...that’s not an excuse anymore...” came a timid voice. Marie stared wildly at Gail, slowly peeling herself from her mother’s embrace and finishing the last of her punch. The spiked punch. And Marie would know as SHE had spiked it, a few blurry memories ago. Perhaps she had gotten a little tipsy already.  
  
“Are you tryin’ to step up to me again?” Marie challenged drunkenly, “You remember how it went last time?”  
  
“You weren’t the only one who got scars...physical OR otherwise!” Gail finally snapped, throwing her glass to the floor, “I have had to live with the stuff, that YOU put me through! All of the OctoTroopers and the Elites and chasing Kooks for keys and the bowling balls and the Experimentorium...OH COD THE EXPERIMENTORIUM!” she took a second to regain her composure, a few short breaths, then she launched back into her tirade, “And then, at the end of it, what do I get? I get to see a gruesome close-up of Callie’s head exploding AND I lose an eye for the trouble! You think you’re the only one with problems, Marie?! So for once, LISTEN to me when I say, you were duped by-”  
  
“I DON’T WANT TO HEAR YOUR EXCUSES!” Marie bellowed, pointing at the Inkling violently, “You could have been a little faster, a little cleaner, a little better, in EVERYTHING you did!”   
  
“On the contrary!” Gail screamed back, getting right in Marie’s face, “I did everything you wanted me to, and MORE, to get her back! I only did it BECAUSE you told me to. Because you HAD to. Because YOU won that damned Finalfest and hogged the spotlight while Callie got table scraps! Maybe if you hadn’t been such a failure, maybe if your ego didn’t consume you, Callie would still be alive!”  
  
A wicked sound rang out across the hall as Marie roared and swung the bottle in her hand with all of her might. It smashed into Gail’s face, shattering on impact. She didn't even cry out in pain on contact, instead instantly ragdolling to the floor and collapsing into a barely conscious heap. Ink trickled down her face and out of her eye socket, her one good eye showered in some of the glass shards, or at least caved in by the sheer force of the impact. Nobody could tell. Agent 8 screamed and knelt down to assist the softly spasming body; she had medical training of...some sort, she knew what to do. The entire room went deathly silent as all eyes focused on Marie. Melody screamed, Arthur remained silent and still. Marie growled; her head was a burning mass of fury, a shattered dam of her anger and grief. Meltdown inevitable. A red fog slowly seeping over her eyes, to engulf them forever. But she was to go swiftly, soundly, into the night.  
  
"DON'T. YOU. EVER!" Marie screamed, giving the twitching Inkling a savage kick, "Talk to me like that again! DO YOU HEAR ME?!"  
  
"Probably not!" Agent 8 wailed as she scrambled up and down Gail’s body, soaking up what ink she could with napkins, "She need ambulance!"  
  
"SHUT UP!" Marie screamed again, throwing the remains of the bottle at her, "You and your wretched species! You're the cause for ALL OF THIS!” she paused for breath. Around her was the Inkling and Octoling masses. Those who, but a week ago, had joined her in the mourning of her cousin, now staring deathly silently at her. She growled, "...Screw this place. I'm leaving."  
  
She turned and stomped towards the exit, eyes forced off of the hateful stares that now surrounded her. And yet, as she left, she could hear Finn’s smug laughter from across the room. She stopped to turn at him, heart racing, mind pounding, composure barely kept.  
  
"Ladies and gentlemen..." Finn chuckled, "We see tonight, the true Squid Sister, in the flesh. For the hateful, shameless bigot she truly is. She is your monster, your enemy. Truly the face of someone who would kill their own cousin..."  
  
The angry shouting started. It started as a few boos and jeers, but it did not take long for it to erupt into a cacophonous roar from the crowd. It got louder and louder, viscous and brutal. Even some eggs and half-empty glasses of the spiked punch were thrown her way. Marie had attempted to run past, out of the door, away from here. But something...snapped. Like an elastic band had given up and was now flailing around in her mind. She felt sick, she felt tired, she felt...like death. She shivered violently, tears pricking at her eyes as she slovenly stumbled across the room, only to give up and collapse, hands pressed firmly against her ears. For what little it did to drown out the crowd;  
  
"Holy squid, he's right!"  
  
"She IS a monster! She brutalised that poor Inkling!"  
  
"I'm ashamed to be a fan!"  
  
"To think I coveted you!"  
  
"I FOUGHT for you in Finalfest!"  
  
"Monster!"  
  
"Bigot!"  
  
"Murderer!"  
  
"Stop it...stop it!" Marie screamed, a howling cacophony raging throughout her mind, "ALL OF YOU STOP IIIIIIIIIT!!!" she collapsed further forward, holding her head so tight as to almost crush it. Every part of her body was racing and dry, "My head...it's BURNING..."  
  
In the midst of this obscene panic attack, she could only use all of her remaining strength to crane her neck upwards, pressed on by the frigid chill running down her neck towards her spine. Something deep inside her felt like it was slowly...cracking, small dents running here and there across it. And amidst the braying masses, surrounded by fog that none else could see, was Karsum. He stared down, an odd glee to his voice.  
  
" ** _Oh Marie...you shall be a spectacular addition to my family. It's...time..._** "  
  
Her soul finally opened. And shattered like glass.  
  
Marie screamed in agony, throwing her body back and her head further, a bright red pouring out of her mouth and eyes. Black fog, tinted red, stormed from those very same eyes, shooting slightly her and then settling down onto her face before picking up steam and circling her like ribbons. The shadowy fog circled her body as it shook and shifted slightly, an otherworldly scream filling the room to perfectly accentuate the evil happening here. A pain Marie had never felt before rushed through her veins, feeling like millions of tiny needles stabbing into her skin over and over and over. The horrid, draining void in her brain. She could feel her conscious being sucked out amidst the pained heat in her changing teeth. A dark red haze slowly forming from the fog-induced darkness. Pained, scrambling thoughts slipping further and further, until at last all feeling ceased.  
  
The fog stopped leaking from her eyes as Marie completed the transformation. Her body wrecked, her mind ravaged, she fell forward with a weary groan and flopped to her hands and knees. She was panting, gibbering harshly to herself, as she stared dazed at the ground. The room had gone deathly silent once more, staring at the transformation that had just taken place. The Inkling’s form had bulked a small amount, visible muscle running across her arms. Her teeth had sharpened into spiked fangs, all of them, dribbles of saliva running down. Her tentacles frazzled and unkempt, now tinted red where they had once been tinted green. And as she shakily got to her feet and stared at Finn, he could see her true eyes; pitch black, with blood red pupils.  
  
Finn chuckled and clapped, “Neat trick. What do you do for an enc-”  
  
‘ _ **KILL HIM**_ ’  
  
Marie screamed as she lunged for the Octoling. He struggled under her vice-like grip, totally immobilised within her grasp. He looked at up the snarling animal before him; there was no more Marie in there. No more Agent 2. He barely got time to savour his final thought. Marie brought her fist down upon him, punching his face with the strength of a baseball, multiple times. Blue ink was splashed across the floor as the Octoling was battered, hands scrambling but finding no freedom.   
  
“Wretched!” Marie screamed, punctuating every word with another punch, “Ugly! Evil! Hateful! Horrible! FFFFFFFFUCKING OCTOLINGS!!!” She brought a final left punch down upon the shattered remains of Finn’s face. He was alive, barely, struggling to remain conscious. He was gurgling, eyes darting around. Marie’s two hearts still raced. There was only one thing the screaming in her head told her to do; “...FFFFFFUCK!!!” and she brought both hands down on the head, splatting it with one final spasm of the body. Finn was no more.  
  
Marie paused. In an almost instantaneous movement, the fog over her vision lifted. She could see clearly. To an extent, at least. Everything still looked like a little...red, though. The burning was gone, it was finally gone. But...nothing remained. A hollow ringing in her head perhaps, but little more. She felt sick. Her hands were trembling, coated in royal blue ink. The sting was drowned out by the hollowness. She looked up, shaking, at the beings before her. They were talking. Cuttlefish was talking, barely audible, his voice a horrid whisper;  
  
“Agent 3...open fire.”  
  
Almost instinctively, Marie grabbed a serving dish and chucked it at the Agent reaching for his Hero Shot. It smacked him in the face with a satisfying clang, and she took the opportunity to turn and run. She screamed out of the Institute, frenzied, bounding across tarmac and cobblestone. She ran headfirst into the night, howling and snarling, unaware of the cloaked being watched satisfied from afar.


	7. Now or Never

A harsh groan woke Marie from her slumber. She felt dizzy and strangely warm. But not drunk or hungover, despite the sheer amount of booze she had downed. She barely remembered what happened after pounding Finn’s head into blueberry salsa the night before. Hell, she barely remembered anything before THAT. She ran out into the night, and then...nothing. She shifted to get to her feet, throwing the blanket draped across her to the floor. She was back in her underwear, the green velvet dress lying in tatters somewhere on the floor. Her apartment was a mess, frankly. Rubble littered the floor and her furniture was toast. The TV survived, at least. And it was on. Weird.  
  
Grumbling, Marie stumbled over to the full-length mirror to check herself out. Pale. Somewhat buff. Covered in ink of all sorts of colours. She stared at her hands, still coated in some of the royal blue lifeblood of the infernal Octoling. She looked into the mirror further, and stared deep in her own eyes. They were no longer the eyes she saw before. Now pure black, with blood red rings. A strange red tint to her tentacles. Sharp teeth. She looked positively monstrous. She mumbled, “Guh...my head...what happened last night?”  
  
The news blared to life on the TV, jumping Marie from her thoughts. She turned to stare at the newscaster shuffle his papers; a stand-in today, the Off the Hook girls were on...uh, ‘extended leave’ following the night’s events. He talked soundly as phone-captured footage of the night before flashed behind him. The parents of Gail confronting Marie. Marie likewise bottling their beloved daughter. Hounded by the crowd. Her dramatic scream to the sky as the fog transformed her. Beating that Octo scumbag to death. All in shaky, not-close-to-perfect clarity.  
  
Marie knew she should feel anger, or guilt. But instead she felt...amusement. She chuckled, “Oh yeah. That...worth it, I guess...”  
  
Sighing, she turned the TV off and went to take a shower. No good being covered in all this ink. Not when it was hers, anyway. It was sticky, and it smelled of bronze. Disgusting. She spent quite some time in the shower, watching blankly as the splatters drained and broke apart in the rushing water. It swirled down the drain, an almost pretty rainbow circling the void beneath. Cleaning and drying herself, she meandered back into the main room and picked up her phone. Maybe the text chat channel the Splatoon used for communication could offer something...well, ANYTHING. See if 4 was struck from the records...nope. But she was. Not a single channel on the damn thing could be accessed. All blanked. All with the same text;  
  
 **‘MARIE CUTTLEFISH - AGENCY STATUS TERMINATED. ASSET HAS BECOME HOSTILE, NEW AGENT REQUIRED.’**  
  
Booted out of the Splatoon, huh? Didn’t take long. Marie took a slither around the channel and its profiles. Hers was still there, sort of. It was totally blanked. No profile pic, no details. Just a single message;  
  
“ _I told you to calm down and back off. And you killed one of our employees. I asked your Gramps to strike you from the Splatoon, we don’t need you. Stay away from my girlfriend, Monster - Pearl_ ”  
  
“...Bitch,” Marie sneered, throwing her phone to the couch. She huffed coarsely, turning back to snatch another flask of booze from the table and drink heavily from it. Hmm. Barely even tasted it that time. She stared forward into nothing, processing her situation. It was...dire. There was no getting past it now; Karsum had won. She was corrupted. Those red eyes were there to stay. A dark anger slowly boiled within her, a sort of bitterness unknown to any previous form. She could feel her teeth grit, her brow furrow. She felt like a whole new type of beast. And yet...it kinda felt good.  
  
Staring around the room, something caught her eye. A flash of plastic black, hidden under the dress. She walked over to it and pulled it free from the torn fabric. Widowmaker, of course. Scuffed a little, but still in one piece. Not many bullets left - no more than six or so, she counted. She cleaned the scope lens with her thumb and held it in her arms. It felt...almost right, holding it like this. She stared into open air again, holding the gun steady.   
  
She wearily whined, “Well...I guess this is me now. What to do...what to do.”  
  
 _“I dunno doll, you tell me.”_  
  
Marie jumped at the voice. It sounded like a...well a man. Someone who sounded guttural, and yet just a little too smarmy for their own good. Echoed, too. Marie gulped, “...The hell? Are you a voice in my head?”  
  
 _“No, I’m a beanie-wearin’ squidio upset my Octo rival died,”_ the voice responded sarcastically, before jumping into a hearty chuckle, _“Heh heh, I’m joking, doll! Let’s just say I’m, uh...a friend, of the big blue banana-slammer you saw last night.”_  
  
“Of course. Talking to voices in my head. Perfectly normal. Whatever. Tell him I’m probably ffffucked,” Marie grumbled, spinning and walking in the opposite direction. No she wasn’t going to question this, why would she at this point? She walked to the window, looking down upon the traffic below, “They know where I live. Won’t be long ‘til someone comes to take me out.”  
  
 _“To dinner or the grave?”_ Marie stopped cold at the...attempted humour. She stared aimlessly into the air, a look of indignation on her face. The voice sighed, _“Man, you have NO sense of humour. Well, it’s up to you, eh? What d’ya wanna do before you go? Tie up some loose ends, perhaps?”_  
  
Loose ends? The hell was he talking about?! What kind of loose ends would Marie even have at this point? No debts, no friends, pushin’ everyone away like that. All that was left was her burning hatred of Octokind. The ones who killed her cousin. The ringleader to...hmm. Ringleader. Leader...of course. Marie’s brow furrowed in hate, tumbling her gun around in her grasp. She twisted her neck to glare at a photo from some two years ago. Simpler times, her as Agent 2, Callie as Agent 1. They, Gramps, and newly crowned Agent 3, posing like friends in front of the snowglobe.  
  
Octavio. He had to die.  
  
Not just for Callie, not just for the Zapfish, but for everything he and his kind ever did. Time to go out with a bang, she supposed. Barging into her room and setting Widowmaker down, she rambled through her clothing options. Not the Agent gear. The Agent gear sucked. Something NEW. Something kept catching her eye. Something Callie had got her as a sort of joke so long ago. A Black Inky Rider. A black leather jacket covered in pins. Callie got it to mess with her cousin; play into her grumpy moments, her “edgy af” dark side. How long ago that felt now.  
  
She threw on a pale red shirt, black jeans, blackened Moto Boots, a red handkerchief around her neck. Snapped a pair of Pilot Goggles on her head. Wouldn’t hurt to have some protection, especially after last time. She stared a final time at the jacket. She silently slipped it on, zipping it up. It felt...wonderful. Like she had just been reborn. She posed in front of the mirror. Draped in leather, goggles on head, gun in hands. She looked like the kind of unsavoury folks Cuttlefish would spin stories of in her youth. She grimaced. They WANTED her to be the bad guy, now...so be it.  
  
Snatching her keys and some change, she slithered out of the apartment. She felt like a new squid. Like she wanted to dance her way down stairs. Wasn’t gonna do that, though. Too early for that. Might get her unwanted attention. Still, she almost cracked a smile; they wanted a bad gal? Heh...they were gonna get one.  
  
 **===**  
  
Only a fool would believe Cuttlefish still had Octavio stationed at Tentakeel Outpost. Marie’s old stomping grounds. After all she did? He wouldn’t wanna take a chance. She knew him. So she knew where he would have moved the Agency. Where there was no Octoling activity, not anymore. The old, old stomping grounds. Octo Valley. All the way in the age-old, long abandoned, Inkopolis Plaza.  
  
It was a frigid, overcast morning as Marie trudged along the empty streets. Back in the day she would take the train from her remote little apartment to the Plaza, back when she and Cal were its stars. But after last night, never mind the eyes and the gun clasped tightly in her hands, she would be found and bad things would happen in seconds. Disguises simply were not an option anymore. So she walked, feet increasingly sore, towards her destination. She turned a few more corners, and she was there. The Plaza. In its heyday it was the place to hang out in the city. Grab some drinks, a shirt, some new guns from Ammo Knights, and make your name in Turf War. And Marie would be there, singing and bantering with Callie in their little studio all of the while. And yet...  
  
“Place is still abandoned…”  
  
Her grumbles weren’t without merit. Only a year previously, the Square was deemed the new hip place to be in town. Marie never understood why. It was so much smaller compared to the Plaza. Eternally under construction. Maybe there was more to do, maybe it was closer for some. Either way, the Plaza withered soon after. Everyone packed up shop and moved to the new location, even the coffee shop. The Plaza was silent, dead. Shops boarded up, the Tower to the stages long bolted shut. Even their old studio was long abandoned. The sky was grey and foggy, with hints of rain on the horizon. A single tear seeped from Marie’s eyes as she looked upon her old stomping ground, as cold and as dead as she was.  
  
Still, no time for mental gymnastics. She knew why she was here. Stationed at the long-abandoned vending machines, where Three had first been approached by Cuttlefish, was the grate to Octo Valley. Where Octavio started trouble the last time, before he kidnapped Cal and moved to the Canyon. Now it housed the madman again...and it was to be his grave. She clambered towards the grate, gun rattling in her hands...but then, something caught the corner of her eye. A tall, lanky fellow, hiding in a familiar alcove in the city below the studio. His spiky hair rustling in the breeze as he sipped his coffee.  
  
“‘Ello, luv.”  
  
“...Spike?” Marie asked, confused. She didn’t have time for this, but she chose to at least humour his inexplicable appearance. She walked towards him, eyeing him suspiciously, “What’re you doing here? This place is a ghost town.”  
  
“I know,” Spike chuckled, sipping his coffee again, “It’s just to get some peace and quiet, away from all the holler in the Square. That, and I got a tip off that you’d be here. Love the new peepers, heh heh…” his joke fell flat, he knew that, staring at the ravenous gaze of the young lady. Something in him deflated and he sighed wearily, spikes drooping, “So...it’s come to this, has it? Ye olde human guns, to destroy one of those Octo guys.”  
  
“How do you-”  
  
“Sheldon told me,” Spike cut her off, “Not like he could go to anyone else, ya know? Inklings wouldn’t listen even if he could tell them. And he’s been trying to get to Cuttlefish for days now...nothin’...” he flashed back momentarily to Sheldon’s warnings, his tiny arms flailing in sheer panic, “He doesn’t want to accept that his granddaughter went mad. Using human tech.”  
  
“What are you doing here, then?”  
  
“I WAS gonna try and talk you out of it,” Spike arched forward, putting down his coffee. He gestured towards the broken squid, “But I see those clothes, that human gun, that glint in your dark, red eyes...you’re not the Marie I watched announce those Splatfests. I just...hope you know what you’re doin’...”  
  
Wretched silence followed. Neither wanted to speak after that. Both had nasty thoughts bubbling in their heads. Of what happened. Of what was going to happen. Marie broke the silence, “I need to make sure. Be certain that he won’t harm anyone’s cousins. Or anyone else. Ever again…”  
  
“...Look. I’m bad with words. And I can’t understand what you must be goin’ through. And no that doesn’t excuse what the shell happened last night but, uh, I’m not gonna try ya if THAT’S what yer capable of...” Spike grumbled reluctantly, “But just to let ya know...I’m rootin’ for ya, in some twisted way. Lunacy or not, the man stole our power source and nearly put all’a us outta business...twice. Octo’s gotta pay.”  
  
“Thank you...goodbye, Spike…” Marie sighed wearily, waving her goodbyes and turning her back to the man. She meandered across the Plaza, graceless and bow-legged to the urchin man. He reaffirmed his worries; this really wasn’t the Marie of the past. He watched somewhat sadly as she turned to squid form - a lovely black with red tips - and slithered through the grate with a sordid splash.  
  
 **===**  
  
Once upon a time, Marie would don her Agent 2 disguise and meet up with Callie and the rest of the Agents at Cuttlefish Cabin in the Octo Valley. The main sort of link between the city above and the Domes below, carved out of the rock just outside of it. You could even see the green Plaza tower, just beyond the rocky horizon. It was a place crawling with Octo activity back then. But no longer. Any uprisings with new, fresh-faced leaders had been quashed in the years between, and all the remaining Octo Slobs moved to the Canyon with Octavio and...Callie, anyway. Now it was just a place for Recon duty, and to relax away from the bustle of the city.  
  
Marie knew this well, of course. She flew through the grate and landed with a metallic clang upon it, assuming humanoid form. She looked out across the first area. Cuttlefish Cabin was still covered in clutter, but not staffed at the moment. She looked around further, signs of takeout and a few drinks. And then, lodged in the corner of the outpost, Octavio. The wretched Octo-beast that had started all of this to begin with. Lodged in a round, glass orb. A snowglobe, just like last time. How quaint. He seemed no better here than in the Canyon. Already she could see Cuttlefish talk to the imprisoned octo, as if he were striking up friendly conversation. And to his side, the two remaining Agents. Three, wearing his stupid cape, snuggled up the infernal Octoling, Eight.  
  
A white hot fury burned in Marie as she stomped over to the snowglobe. She wanted to say so much. That Octavio's time was finally up. That he and his Octos were the cancer of the Inkling world. That ending him and his entire race would bring peace and unity. That he would never hurt anyone else, ever again. That he would burn in Hell where he belonged.  
  
What actually came out of her mouth was...less than stalwart.  
  
"Octavio! I'm gonna splatter you all over this outpost you FFFFFUCKING Takoyaki Brain!"  
  
Cuttlefish was the first to turn his head towards the advancing creature, his expression one of pure fear. This being stomping towards him, this was not Marie. It was some beast. A hollow, angry creature enveloped in grief and anger beyond reason, wearing the skin of his beloved granddaughter. Clutching one of those awful human firearms in her hands. Sheldon was...was right! If only he had listened. He stood before Octavio, arms outstretched.  
  
Agent 3 silently cursed under his breath at the changed squid, standing up and aiming his Hero Shot, “Marie. Stand down.”  
  
“Aww, not callin’ me Agent 2 anymore?” Marie asked mockingly. Agent 3 was about to interject, but Marie stopped him quickly; “Shut up. I saw the text. Tell Pearl she’s cute. And interloping with a war criminal.”  
  
“Marie...” Cuttlefish gasped, his voice shocked, his tone almost pleading, “Look, I know I said a LOT of stuff about Octo-Kind over the years. All those stories of their evil. All the stuff they did back in the Valley! It was...it was hate, I admit that. But things are different now! So many have turned tail, they’re good people!”  
  
“They’re ANIMALS!” Marie spat, “We drove them underground, and they sprung back up to steal our lives in force! They kidnapped my cousin! Forced her death at THEIR hands! And it’s ALL-” she pointed accursedly, “HIS. FAULT.”  
  
“Got a well-trained eye on her, eh?” Octavio chuckled behind the glass, “Damn shame she almost lost it firing that gun of hers, ha!”  
  
Marie growled in anger, stomping forward further. Agent 3 jumped in front of her, Hero Shot aimed and ready, “MARIE,” he said strongly, “I will not ask you again. Stand down.”  
  
“We not all bad! I promise!” Agent 8 begged. Marie shot her a deathly glare, but ignored her. She wasn’t worth the scorn. Not here. Not compared to the big pink monster in the snowglobe.  
  
“Please don’t do this, honey. I beg of you!” Cuttlefish said, shivering in his boots, “I’ve already lost one granddaughter! Please...don’t let me lose the other one.”  
  
Agent 3 held his ground, “Marie...you don’t have to do this.”  
  
Marie clicked off the safety and turned her rifle towards him, “Get out of the way, Three.”  
  
“You think I’m scared of you? You were my superior. WERE,” Agent 3 boasted, posing in what ways he could without taking his aim off of Marie, “But I’ve taken down an entire army! I’ve taken down Octavio! I even defeated that horrible telephone! So if you think I can’t take on a washed up, drunken ex-Agent, well you’ve got another thing comi-”  
  
BANG!  
  
Agent 3 had only a few seconds to see the flash from the muzzle, then the smoke billowing into the sky, before the pain overwhelmed him. He desperately covered his torso, now sporting a nasty wound where his ink sac would be, trying to plug the wound. Thick green ink poured from the sac, some even rushed up and out of his mouth, making him gurgle and gasp. He had a few seconds of agony before, mercifully, the pain overtook him and he collapsed to the floor. He was alive...barely. But Marie knew a shot like that was gonna keep him in hospital for quite some time. A burst ink sac always did. She heard the Octoling scream, but she waved Widowmaker’s barrel into her face. She whimpered fearfully, backing away slowly. So did Cuttlefish. She proved her point, it seemed.  
  
She walked slowly over to Octavio, working the action on her rifle as she went. They didn’t know it worked that way, she gathered, she could afford the action. There was a soft clink as a spent casing tumbled to the ground, then a clunk as another was loaded in. Four shots left. That would do. She looked up at Octavio, and he looked down at her.  
  
“Octavio...” she hissed.  
  
“The Solo Squid Sister...” Octavio cackled, “MAN, I saw what you did to Finnley last night. Hmm. And you call us the monsters. How funny it was to see who you REALLY were when the beat dropped, hmm? Worse than anythin’ I could ever do.”  
  
“LIAR!” Marie screamed, slamming a fist onto the glass, “You’re a monster leading monsters into war!”  
  
“And Kettlefishy ain’t?” Octavio sneered. Marie stopped cold, a shiver running down her spine. Octavio chuckled, “Think of the Valley. Runnin’ around, stealin’ my power, bumpin’ off MY people. Did you do what you did because you WANTED to...or because he TOLD you to? Out of some grudge from a spat some ten decades ago. Fillin’ your head with nothing but the fact we were beneath you. And yet, when you turn your gun on one’a yours, oh now its a tragedy.”  
  
“Octavio!” Cuttlefish called out, raising a hand to the snowglobe, “Don’t anger her...I know what I did was wrong. But, I’ve changed. Eight showed me Octos can be good people! And so can you.”   
  
“...Now THAT, is wack, yo,” Octavio sneered again. He knew what he was, deep down. The ‘Bad Guy’. Not that much different from the maniac before him, ”I know it’s a cliche to say this, squiddo, but...” he chuckled, “You and I, we ain’t that different. We both want what’s best for us and our friends. An’ we’ll do anything to get it. But me, I did it for survival. You’ve just lashed out like some animal. Chasing demons runnin’ around yer head.”  
  
“You have NO idea how close you are...” Marie shivered violently, pointing into the globe with her free hand, “But you’ve committed crimes against an entire race! Against my! Family! Your crimes end here, old man!”  
  
“What crime?” Octavio raised his voice, “Of findin’ someone your folks pushed out of the spotlight? I gave Cal an all-new lease on life. She loved my team. She was happy. She was popular. The STAR!” he turned to the Squid Sister; she was aghast, beside herself in anger and fury. Octavio knew what he was doing. He was SAFE in this glass prison. He dug the knife in further, “Not a second fiddle to some washed up phat beat with cousin issues. Stealing her glory and fightin’ over condiments. Between you and me...” he twisted the knife, “I think she’s better off in the sky.”  
  
With an unholy screech, Marie reared up and let loose a wicked haymaker on the snowglobe. It didn’t stand a chance. The entire thing shattered with a terrifying crash, spreading glass around in a vast circle. Cuttlefish ducked to shield himself from the barrage of sharpness, while Agent 8 collapsed over Agent 3 to protect him. Octavio’s eyes bulged in what felt like a new emotion for him - true fear. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. No squid was this strong! This murderous! The air left his body as a clawed hand snapped across his throat with a vice-grip, then a lurch as he was catapulted head over heels towards Cuttlefish Cabin. Landing with a crash, he had a brief glance of the squid stomp over to him, before she slammed a boot into his body and pinned him to the floor.  
  
“Wait, wait! It wasn’t supposed to-”  
  
Marie didn’t feel like letting him talk.  
  
BANG!  
  
Octavio screamed as the bullet tore a chunk of his brains out. Marie yelled in mental agony as she struggled to chamber another bullet with shaking hands, before finally doing so and firing again. Sections of Octavio’s head were gone, splattered across the ground, his cries drowned out by the feral wails of the Squidster. She loaded and fired the third shot, taking out an eye. Cuttlefish dared not look, Agent 8 screamed in terror and clung to Agent 3 like a rag doll, in horror at the scene before them. The final shot rang true, peircing one of the Octo’s black hearts, before finally clicking empty. Marie desperately pulled the trigger a few more times, scared she was out of bullets, before she stared down at the mess she had made. Only fragments of Octavio’s brains, what little he had considering what he was, remained. The remaining eye wept, his tentacles twitching and curling inwards.  
  
“The p...a-ain...” he gurgled, his speech scrambled and failing, “Wha haff yoo...you...are a ba...barb...ari...an!” he turned to his side and wept, “My...f-family...my peop...le...Aldus...what h...as your plan...done to us...”  
  
“P...Plan? What plan?! What of Aldus!? What did you do?! ANSWER ME!” Marie screamed. But of course, Octavio was too far gone for that. With a final soft wheeze he went limp, lying in a puddle of himself. Dead.   
  
That white hot fury burned in Marie once again - she had been duped, again!? Was Agent 4 right all this time?! No...NO!!! Screaming with anger, she turned her empty gun around and smashed the stock into what remained of the Octopus. More chunks and more ink came out. She repeated the strike, over and over and over, her torso a blur of leather and red as she beat the formless mash once known as Octavio, yelling all of the while. She stopped. The anger cleared...momentarily. She looked down. Her clothing was covered in pink slime, the crushed remains of the Octo King before her. Her breathing hollow, she dared not stare Cuttlefish or Eight in the eye, nor turn her head to see them. She had won. Octavio was defeated, never to terrorise the surface again. Callie was avenged.  
  
So...why did she feel nothing? Why was the pain still there?  
  
It was like some dreadful puzzle piece had slotted into place. Was this not enough? Was victory meaningless? Maybe Karsum was right. Maybe this WAS more than just her and Cal. Maybe she was a small cog in a big machine...no. There had to be more to that! This wasn’t good enough! None of this was!  
  
With a growl, she took the remains by the tentacles and clambered through the grate. She was making damn sure he’d never come back.


	8. Moment of Truth

She had been waiting for this. Her name was Demi. Squidkid, cute as a button, leader of a team known as Team Inkpot. Today was the day, that she and her team were to prove themselves. After months of training, days of planning, and perhaps a few too many GrizzCo shifts for funding, everything was ready. Gear bought and bedazzled with matching gear slots. Weapons hand-picked and fine-tuned. A plan formulated and ready to go. Sure that sendoff party had put...a damper, of sorts, on proceedings. But if that ceremony ended in tragedy then it was up to someone like Demi for a PROPER sendoff. Winning the Turf War Tournament, in Callie’s name.  
  
Wahoo World. A theme park and old human pier rolled into one, off of the coast of the city. Her side was on the wooden pier, hanging precariously over the water below. They’d be fine if they jumped in, they’d just respawn at the pad. She shuddered to think what would happen if someone who WASN’T registered in the pad at the time jumped in. Whatever. It was time to get ready for this fight. The first of many great battles against the elite of the Wars of Turf. Her opponents, a team of Octoling Elites from the Below World...whatever that was. They were ready to thrown down.  
  
An announcer blared out over the arena, “Alright! Today’s Turf War is between Team Inkpot and the Deep-Divers! Battle starts in 3...2...”  
  
“Wait, wait! Pause!” one of the announcer’s co-workers came over the tannoy as well, “We’ve got a problem! Someone’s run into the arena!”  
  
Who the hell would interrupt something so IMPORTANT! It was against the rules to impede a Turf War battle while it was in session! Demi could hear a stamping of wood as whoever intruded came near. She saw her. Her Octoling teammate screamed in fear and cowered behind her. The was the beast, eyes black and red, clad in leather. She was carrying a rifle, forged in steel and plastic, alongside...oh dear Cod, what WAS that?! It looked like some sort of large Octoling, but no face! There was a large trail of magenta ink as the squid dragged it along, with chunks of brain and Cod knows what else falling out. Demi felt like she was going to be sick.  
  
The beast walked slow, methodically. Her face showed signs of a snarl, one that only increased as she saw the two Octolings with Demi on the platform. Then her face was pushed into rage. With a growl, she increased her pace, slowly breaking out into a rushing stomp across the boardwalk towards the railing. She began to scream as she sprinted to the railing and, with a screech, threw the carcass over it. The body tumbled down the pier to the water, where is splashed and began to sink. All too soon, the body twisted and exploded into ink, scattering across the waters. But no spirit came out, the body just...vanished.  
  
“Yes...” the beast hissed, “YEEESSS! Sink forever, Octavio! Never show your ugly fffffffffffffffUCKIN’ face around here ever again! The Octarian Scourge is over, people! THE SQUIDBEAK SPLATOON IS VICTORIOUS!!!”  
  
One of Demi’s teammates moved to shield the panicking Octoling with his body, and Demi herself moved to do the same with their Metro-Dewller. She stared up, fearfully at the beast before her. Her face was scrunched into a scowl, eyed black and blood red. It was Marie! The Squid Sister who killed Finn! Who went mad and proclaimed war on all OctoKind! She stood frozen in place for a few seconds more, terrified of the creature that stood before - and turned to face - her.  
  
Alarms blared as guards came rushing in. Inkling and Octoling alike, clad in blue riot gear. Older squids, not the children who played in Turf. People with actual JOBS. They aimed for Marie with their black, scary rifles - not bullet-blasters like Widowmaker, more launchers firing smoke grenades full of Toxic Mist. They all looked a little shaken, staring down the she-devil who had made such a mess some time before.  
  
They barked something to Marie, to get her to stand down. She didn’t listen. She aimed her rifle and fired, an ear-splitting boom filling the pier. One of the Octolings went down, screaming in pain, a spurt of magenta ink coming from her chest. The others opened fire with the gas launchers, to which Marie rushed forward, barrelling through them with a shoulder charge. They collapsed around her like bowling pins, and before anyone knew it Marie had jumped the gates and was gone. It didn’t take long for the match to be struck off and cancelled. Demi walked her shivering team towards the exit, a thought bubbling in her head;  
  
“...What did she mean about the Squidbeak Splatoon?”  
  
===  
  
“Good afternoon, everyone...” Cuttlefish sighed, brushing off the podium, drowning out the flashing of the cameras and the murmuring of the snapperazi, “So, yeah....today, I have been...forced to announce to the world the existence of the New Squidbeak Splatoon...thanks to the actions of my remaining granddaughter earlier today,” a round of braying from the reporters, “Gentlemen, please! In time. Now, to keep it simple, we spent our time overlooking the Domes that snake below you. Full of Octolings from days gone by. They wanted to breach the surface, and...we kept them in check. Now, however, Octolings are living side-by-side, our grievances gone. And as such, I feel it best to take recruits to boost our numbers and forge a real crime-fighting team!” he almost sounded excited there, but his mood dropped fast, “...On that note, I DO have a message for Marie, wherever you are...you are not welcome here anymore. In this city, in this family. The police now have a bounty on your head. Wanted dead or alive. Preferably...the former. I’m sorry, but...you brought this upon yours-”  
  
BANG!  
  
Marie growled as her TV shattered from the gunshot, spreading glass and wires all across the room. Great, one more thing to clean up. Not like this place was enough of a mess or anything! This was just about the worst week of her life - Callie was still long dead, and now so was someone the people looked up to. Her head felt hollow, with a course ringing persisting throughout her waking hours. Her Agency fired her, her own grandfather abandoned her! And now...now she was on the run from people she used to love. There was this horrible feeling, welling up inside her. Like all of her previous rage had subsided, if only for a moment. And everything was coming back crystal clear. What could she do now?! Change name and move to New Inkshire? Stay in a cave somewhere? Or maybe...she checked the magazine lodged haphazardly into Widowmaker.  
  
“Last bullet...” she sighed, throwing the rifle across the room, “Fffffffuck...I was savin’ that for myself.”  
  
“ _ **Oh, would that not be a waste of precious life, Little Moth?**_ ”  
  
Marie winced in mental pain as that radio wheeze of a voice rang out in her head again. She could remember him commanding her to...end the reporter, but after that was radio silence for days. Now the fog was seeping into her apartment, and before long the beast had materialised before her.   
  
“YOU...” she sighed coarsely, “Look, if you’re gonna invade my fffffffucking privacy, GIVE ME FAIR WARNING FIRST!!!” she took a few seconds to calm, taking another swig of her drink, “Look at me...what you’ve done to me! I’m a monster!”  
  
“ _ **To some...**_ ” Karsum stared at her calmly, “ _ **Do not worry about this onset of misery. That is just your downtime. All of my family have it. Moments where the fog lifts, and they see who they truly are...but, it is not so awful. To me, you have become another form of normal.**_ ”  
  
“Oh shut up...” Marie spat back, throwing the empty flask across the room and placing a hand to her burning forehead, “Cod, I just...this is exhausting. Can I really continue like this? Do people like me...do we ever find peace?”  
  
“ _ **Are you not aware of an old human saying, Little Moth?**_ ” Karsum mumbled, after a few seconds contemplation, “ _ **It goes...’If you seek peace, prepare for war’. A quote from my time...**_ ”  
  
“And what, you kept true to that?”  
  
“ _ **It was all I ever knew. Long ago, I was a child. One who wished to revive his lost and loved, taken from him by those who consider decency unnatural...**_ ” for once, the apparition’s voice quivered. As if it feared remembering details of a past long extinguished, “ _ **But that...that was years and universes away from now. Now, I am nothing more than a voice in a man’s head. A figurehead for the disease. The Plague Personified.**_ ”  
  
“Mmm...” Marie nodded in a form of twisted pity, “You must be all sorts of unhappy...I know I am.”  
  
“ _ **On the contrary, Little Moth,**_ ” Karsum twisted and squirmed somewhat. His tone, his movements, they could almost be read as...satisfied, “ _ **I couldn’t be happier. I finally have a family I can overlook and protect. And new members, at that. New...types. Before, it was as with you and I. Red eyes and the strength to rip mountains in two. Now...there are more.**_ ”  
  
“More? What do you mean?”  
  
“ _ **You shall find out in time, Little Moth. You may be about to meet some new friends. Perhaps your own...family...**_ ” an errant chuckle, before the being swam backwards into the dense fog, “ _ **I will be watching...**_ ”  
  
The fog dissipated, leaving Marie alone once again. She stared into space for a little while longer, “...Creepy little shit,” before she got up and walked towards the balcony window. After all, she HAD just blown up her TV, not like she had much else to do. She stared out across the city. Today was the first day of a Splatfest. Which one? She couldn’t remember, and she didn’t care. Despite everything, the city seemed to be...normal. Lights were blaring and people were still singing and cheering far into the distance. Despite EVERYTHING Marie had done. She sighed, “I don’t...understand. I’ve got so many questions. How is everything so normal? What do I do now...hell, what even AM I?”  
  
Nothing. No voice, from Karsum or the weird voice from yesterday. She sighed and turned. Maybe a night’s sleep would do her good before the morning. At least she’d look neat and proper when they arrested her...  
  
*PHWOOOOOOM!!!*  
  
The ear-splitting screech and the bright blue light caused Marie to scream in shock and throw herself to the floor. She slowly got to a sitting position, groaning all of the while, staring into the light before her. It was a portal, light blue in colour, spiralling around in place like gel circling the air. Winds whipped around, spreading paper and flasks around the room, while a howling emerged from the wobbling abyss. It broke slightly, and two people emerged. Marie could barely believe her eyes; it was Pearl and Marina. And yet, not. Marina was dressed in a black tank top and jeans, with dark slippers and cream ribbons and headband. She was stumbling, a bottle of something that smelled truly foul clutched in her hand. Pearl, though...she was dressed in her standard outfit, but black as the night with a light blue glow. They too had the black eyes Marie had been saddled with, but with other colours; Marina’s a bright yellow, Pearl’s a cool light blue to accentuate her outfit.  
  
The portal dropped, restoring the room to quiet normal. “Hm. We’re here,” the Inkling said, her tone dripping with smug self-satisfaction, “Well, your technical expertise really IS somethin’, ‘Rina.”  
  
“Ah try mah best, Pearlie,” Marina slurred, pausing to take a drink. Her voice was warbled and laced with...an accent? A mumbled, strung out accent, at that. She finally stopped drinking and sighed, “...Is all ah got now...”  
  
“Wait, wait, wait, time!” Marie yelled, getting to her feet, “What the, HELL is going on here?!”  
  
“...Mm yes I must admit that maybe we left an unusual impression,” Pearl smirked, staring at the scattered papers and bits and bobs around her, “But I found it only fitting to make such an impressive first impression. Very important, as you are doubtless aware of.”  
  
“That doesn’t answer my question, who ARE you?!” Marie demanded. It clicked a second too late and she sighed, “Wait, no, never mind. I know EXACTLY who you are. You’re with that Karsum guy, ain’t you? Part of his ‘family’.”  
  
“You could say that,” Pearl smiled, “I know he hasn’t told you...everything. Hell, even I don’t know that much. But, enough. Do you know who we are, Marie?”  
  
“Insane? Unhinged? Totally boned?”  
  
“They call us Warmongers...” Pearl said with just a hint of pride, “The War Generation. That’s us. As you can guess, we are not the same Pearl and Marina you are aware of. We both loved and lost, just like you. And, oh...it drove us MAD. They call me War Pearl,” she weirdly seemed proud of that too, despite its laughable nature, “And this is War Marina. Which makes YOU...War Marie. Pleasure to meet you.”  
  
“Likewise,” Marie responded sarcastically, “So, what’s with the eyes?”  
  
“Well I don’t know a whole bunch...” Pearl shrugged, “But the texts told me enough. The colour dictates what we are and what we can do. ‘Rina’s a Tactician. Smart as hell. Can make a machine out of the contents of a packet of peanuts. Just...makes her a drunk, too...” she stared at the Octoling take another long swig of her drink and she sighed, turning back to Marie, “Me...they call me an Apex. Look what I can do...” she concentrated, and to Marie’s shock she began to glow a brilliant blue. She spoke, her voice reverberating, “ **Slap yourself in the face, Drone.** ”  
  
“What the-” Marie got out before her own hand came flying across her face. She yelled in pain and rubbed the impact with her other hand. She glared at Pearl, a twisted confusion on her face, “I...I didn’t control that.”  
  
“Cool, huh? I can make people just like you do what I want you to to. Took me a bit too long to get it right, but, I’m there now. Heh heh.”  
  
The newly christened War Marie shook her head, “Gah..what’re you doing here?”  
  
“To give you an offer, “War Pearl said smugly, “One you couldn’t refuse if you wanted to. There is nothing left for you here but prison. I’d like you to join my...team.”  
  
“We’re gettin’ the band back together, Marie!” War Marina hiccuped, “We’re gonna make the Inklings pay!”  
  
“Well, I guess I ain’t got nothing left here...” War Marie sighed, “But what’s in it for me?”  
  
“Ammo for your weapons, freedom from your agency, a new home, more booze, all of the Octolings you could ever want to shoot!” War Pearl cackled a little, “And...the truth.”  
  
“Truth?”  
  
“About the Aldus man,” War Marina burped, “About...the plan.”  
  
War Marie stopped cold. The Plan. The last thing Octavio croaked out before he died. The slightest possibility of Agent 4 being right about her being strung along. It had to be quashed, there and then. She looked up to them, “Tell me everything you can. I need to know the truth.”  
  
“Gladly,” War Pearl laughed, “’Rin-Rin, give her the booze.”  
  
“Awww...” War Marina sighed, before she gave the bottle to War Marie. She studied it closely. It looked almost exactly the same as the stuff she had been drinking for the entire week, but the label was rougher. And good lord did it STINK. War Marina spoke up, “Ah know y’all drunk this stuff for the week...but, not really. That’s weak, watered down shit. This stuff, this be the real deal, y’all. One sip, and it’ll tell ya everythin’.”  
  
War Marie shrugged. She brought the bottle up to her lips and chugged. The feeling was like a car slamming into her brain. She could barely get out a few reams of strangled screams before she collapsed. It took some time before she woke up again, slowly coming to in a dreamscape of blues and greens and purples. There was no-one and nothing in the void, not as of now anyway. Small blurs and portals surrounded her. She looked up, “What the hell is this?”  
  
“Your own conscience,” War Pearl’s voice came ringing out from the nothing, “Me and ‘Rina, we’ve seen everything. Reels of security footage, alternate perspectives of the same scenes. I must say...you’ve had quite the journey. Let me show you just what REALLY happened...”  
  
A scene began to paint itself around her. A throne room, of sorts. Dark, depressing. Water dripping from the walls. Scrap littering the floors and piled up in the corners. And sitting on a throne made of various...things in the middle, Octavio himself. The troublesome male Elite, the one they called Aldus, he was standing before him. Anger burned within War Marie at the sight of the cursed Octo king, but she stayed back to listen.  
  
“Thank you, delivery boy,” Octavio was saying, munching on something that could only vaguely be described as food. Aldus, a delivery boy? Oh the amusement of such a fact. Octavio stared down at the Elite dressed in common garb, “This should help me, uh, ruminate on a new plan. That Agent is tearing through my people like the last one! Callie is a good start, but it ain’t enough! I need more! I need a way to ensure that stupid Squid Sister doesn’t come after me, ever again!”  
  
“Well, excuse me, sir?” the male Elite said, his voice a shudder and a clear contrast from the cold stoic nature of before. Octavio looked at him wordlessly, brow raised in suspicion. Aldus gulped, “I...have an idea. But I’m fairly sure you ain’t gonna like it.”  
  
“Why? What is it?” Octavio asked, followed by a gaunt quiet, “Well, spit it out, kid!”  
  
Aldus stammered a bit. War Marie looked on in confusion; THIS was the guy Octavio trusted to guard Callie? He spoke, “T-Tell me, sir. How...disposable, is the Sister we captured?”  
  
Oh he did NOT just say that.  
  
Octavio was, reasonably, miffed, “...Why?”  
  
“Records show that The Sisters love each other very much...” Aldus said coldly, to which War Marie could offer but a shrug, “Perhaps if one is...disposed of, the other will stop fighting out of grief.”  
  
“Oh, please!” Octavio scoffed, waving a tentacle dismissively, “If I had a thought that killing her off would stop the attacks, I’d dunk her in Ink Thinner myself!”  
  
‘Over my dead body, asshole’, War Marie thought.  
  
“Not us, sir,” Aldus said, finger pointed to the air, “I mean we...make it look like an accident. Tell me...” He looked up, a devilish grin across his face, “How strong can a Charger be set to?”  
  
War Marie’s hearts stopped cold with fear. It couldn’t be! There was NO way he could have even got close to her Charger, she had it on hand at ALL times.  
  
Octavio assumed his own grin, “...Oh...NOW you’re speaking my language, kid. Continue...”  
  
“LIES!” War Marie screamed into the void. The scene vanished before her, putting her back into the void. She was foaming, livid, “You think this is REAL? Any of it?! You’re deceiving me! Stringing me along!”  
  
“I assure you, I’m not,” War Pearl’s voice rang out, “Perhaps you need more...convincing...oh, I know!”  
  
A ringing ran through War Marie’s head and she grimaced as pain flowed through her mind. She clutched her head as the scene changed around her again. The ringing subsided, as did the gassy blur in her vision, and she managed to regain her balance. Where was she?  
  
...Oh.  
  
Oh no.  
  
“DROP THAT SPICY WASABI BEAT, DJ!!! Put an end to this!”  
  
She was back in the arena. The OctoBot King Mk2 flying around in the sky. Agent 4 and Aldus tussling around in the ink. Callie, in her horrible leather getup and shades, belting out horrendous tones. And Octavio lodged firmly at the controls. War Marie began to gibber, doubling over in pain.  
  
“No, please!” War Marie begged, tears already leaking from her eyes, “I don’t wanna do it again! I can’t...I can’t lose her twice...”  
  
“Y’all have to see, Marie...” War Marina’s voice cut through the shadows, “Look at the Agent...”  
  
“SHE WAS A-”  
  
“ **Shut up and look.** ”  
  
War Marie growled as her body jerked across the room, uncaring of her thoughts. A pilot away from her own controls. She had stumbled close to Agent 4 and Aldus as the latter lay in the ink. The fight was wrapping up now, with Octavio confused, Callie primed for the fatal blow.  
  
“You’ve lost, Octo boy!” Agent 4 boasted, pumping her Hero Shot into the air, “Any last words before I splat you AND your dumb boss?”  
  
Aldus...laughed. It was a slow, low chuckle at first, before it changed into a wretched sort of laughter only someone so evil could pull off, “Oh, you Ink-Brain. Do you REALLY think I’m this big old boss that Octavio would trust Callie’s life to? Oh, no. My promotion was but recent. All for my plan.”  
  
4 paused, “Wait...plan?” She looked up, and War Marie did as well. Flying above them, a truck with the Squid Sister logos plastered on the side. And, slowly clambering onto the roof with Charger in hand, Marie. The girl she used to be. The truck got into position. 4 and War Marie, unable to see one another, turned to the smug-smiling Aldus.  
  
“Look at that, Octavio, sir,” he was speaking quietly into a radio, “The Moment of Truth. Let’s see if she takes the bait.”  
  
“What the...what did...” 4 asked, confused, “What did you do?!”  
  
Aldus chuckled, “You should know. You caught me in the Armoury. With a spanner. In the same room as someone’s...Charger.”  
  
...Gail had been telling the truth. Chargers were delicate things, sensitive to the smallest of pressure changes. One twiddle would make it weak enough to tickle an Inkling. Another would make it blast through brick. Gail had warned Marie, just before entering Cephalo HQ, of chasing off an Octoling from Sheldon’s little dustbin armoury. Spanner in hand. War Marie remembered brushing her off, there was NO way an Octoling could get in there, surely! The Charger felt normal to her! Didn’t need a test, it was ready to go!  
  
Aldus. That was his plan. He had RUINED her Charger! All to kill...her. War Marie felt like she was going to be sick from this revelation...and she was. Agent 4 wasn’t much better, it took a few seconds more for her to figure it out. But she did.  
  
I…” She gibbered before it all clicked, “No...no! NO!” Whipping out the radio from somewhere on her person, she tried to call Marie; she talking to Callie, not like she couldn’t hear what they were saying, “Marie, wait, stop! It’s the Charger! That Takoyaki-Brain’s tampered with i-”  
  
Too late. The Charger bubbled and whirred, sounds War Marie remembered all too well. She wanted to hide, to shield her eyes and ears from what she knew was next...but War Pearl, even in her own mind, forced her body to look upwards. There was the ear-shattering boom as the ink erupted from the Charger; it exploded, showering the other Marie in plastic shrapnel, and sending the screaming bullet of a shot towards the confused Callie.  
  
She didn’t see it last time...now she had front row seats. SPLAT!!! Callie recoiled as the shot erupted from the back of her head, brains and ink splattering everywhere. It continued through the platform’s back wall, before finally losing momentum and falling into the abyss below. Callie had no time, nor any capacity, to paw at the gaping hole in her head. She merely gurgled, stumbling backwards as the last vestiges of life left her. With a final sob, she hit the back of the stage and slid down, leaving a trail of magenta ink as she went. And with that, she was dead. All over again.  
  
Both Maries only had one thing to say; “CALLIE!!!”  
  
4 looked absolutely ruined, her breath shallow, her eyes darting around. She was sobbing, looking down and clutching at her jacket, “Oh my Cod…”  
  
“And circle takes the square!” Aldus laughed, “You Inklings really are as dumb as you look. You fell for that hook, line and sinker.”  
  
“You...I’M GONNA-”  
  
4 got no more out as the Octobot King’s fists slammed into the truck, causing it to scream and fall out of the sky, bursting into flame at points. It crashed into the arena, sending fire and smoke in every which way. 4 screamed and lost her balance as the smoke surrounded her, coughing as it entered her body. She slowly, painfully, got to her feet. She got out her Hero Shot, looking around in the smoke. She tries to yell, about finding Aldus even in this and how she’s splatted so many people he’s nothing. She never it out. She stopped cold as she felt the muzzle of an Octoshot press against her face, accentuated by a glimmer of red shades.  
  
“Booyah.”  
  
BANG, he fired directly into her eye. It exploded in a splatter of ink. Agent 4 screamed - the same scream War Marie remembered when she came to - and collapsed before him. The Elite snickered, proud of his accomplishment, turning towards the edge of the arena. Octavio had lowered to his height, and he clambered into the cockpit alongside him. The cretins.  
  
Octavio looked, for lack of a better word, impressed, “Well look there, boy. Your plan was flawless. Now, let’s go rub it in, shall we? Ahem...looking for someone, Agent 2?”  
  
War Marie could take no more. She whimpered, then twisted and collapsed to the ground with a thunk, the scene around her fractured mind dissolving like paper in a stream.  
  
She awoke some time later, the sting of freshwater splashed across her face. She screamed in pain, wiping the water off her face and rolling to her side. With her vision functional, she looked up to see the two fellow Warmongers look down at her. War Marina was holding a now empty bucket, and War Pearl was somewhat apprehensive.  
  
“Well that’s...ONE way to wake someone up.”  
  
“’Ey, it worked, didn’t it?” War Marina asked back.  
  
War Marie was helped to her feet by the two. Her mind was blank, a hollow ringing playing in her ears. She was crying, certainly, her eyes and lip quivering like jelly, “I...I-I was...” she tried to get out between sobs, “I was...”  
  
“It’s okay, Marie...” War Marina sighed, softly embracing the shivering squid; she was too tired and broken to shove her away, “Take yer time, gurl.”  
  
“You were bamboozled, Marie...” War Pearl said sadly, or at least visually sadly, “Truly, deceived. And not by me. A food boy, delivering slime to the King and getting his attention. And all it took was one, brilliant plan...” She glowed again, and War Marie knelt down. War Pearl hugged her awkwardly, whispering into her ear, “Now you see, yes? Do you see the reality of your situation? Aldus is the final piece of this puzzle. Join me...and he’s yours.”  
  
She broke from the embrace, the glowing ceased. The cogs turned in War Marie’s head...but only for a while. She didn’t care of the consequences, not anymore. He had to pay. They ALL had to pay...whatever the cost. She approached and pointed at the small Inkling, “Whatever it takes. I want him DEAD!!!”  
  
“As you should,” War Pearl giggled, digging something out of Marina’s pockets and handing it to her. It was another human gun. A “revolver”, with a ratcheting cylinder and a hinged barrel. Six large holes drilled into the cylinder. A name on it; Webley. War Marie pocketed the revolver without a second thought. War Pearl looked up, “Welcome to...hmm. What should we call our team, girls?”  
  
“...The War Splats,” War Marie growled, “Those Octo ffffffffuckers want to see a party. Tomorrow, I’m gonna give ‘em one...and more.”


	9. Light from the Shore

BOOM!  
  
The Octarian fell to the ground, a gaping hole where his eye used to be. He joined the many deceased octos littering the Outpost’s kettles, splayed across a ground coated in brains and magenta ink. There was almost a hint of a smile as War Marie worked the action on Widowmaker, a warm casing plinking to the floor. Up and to the left. Scope needed some adjustment. She did so, twisting the knobs on the scope with a satisfying clicking sound. She put the rifle down, taking a quiet sip of OctoScotch as she waited for another to come into her sights. She lay back, looking proudly at the ad-hoc snipers nest she and War Marina had spent the morning building. A tower of scrap, lined with railings and a canopy to shield from the sun, and a nice chair she could lie back in. War Pearl was by her side, staring through a pair of binoculars at the spectacle.  
  
“Oooh, he is NOT gettin’ up again,” War Pearl cackled as she placed the binoculars on the table, “I must say, your skill with that thing for a few days use is quite remarkable.”  
  
“Thanks, I guess...” War Marie mumbled, “So, you sure he’s here?”  
  
“Positive,” War Pearl said, “I know enough about the Elites for this sort of tracking. ’Rina used to work for ‘em, you know.”  
  
“...I kind of guessed that,” War Marie sighed. A lot of the burning anger from before just seemed...missing, today. Today was a serious day. Though she still catalogued that for future use. She cleared her throat, “What did she do?”  
  
“She was an engineer. Made some of the tech that ran you Agents ragged. Kinda funny, actually. Remember those Flooders?” War Marie nodded, “’Rina made those.”  
  
“Then tell her she’s a piece of Takoyaki,” War Marie grumbled, taking another swig, “Alongside the rest of her race.”  
  
“Ouch,” War Pearl grimaced, “That on its own would warrant another forced slap. But...” she wrestled with her thoughts for a while, but she sighed, “Not this time.”  
  
BANG!  
  
“Scratch another one,” War Marie chuckled.  
  
“Look, let’s be serious here,” War Pearl crowed, “I will give you all of the Octos you want to shoot, but I will NOT hear a bad word against ‘Rina. You and her WILL get along, otherwise you and me? We’re gonna have a problem. Got that?”  
  
“Whatever...” War Marie twiddled with her scope again, “I know you two are close and all. Turned together.”  
  
“Oh no, we’re from alternate timelines,” War Pearl sighed, “’Cause my Rina...” she sighed again, harshly this time, “Tell me, Marie. You wanna know what’s worse than losing someone you love?”  
  
“If there is worse I don’t wanna hear it,” War Marie grumbled.  
  
“It’s finding out you lost someone you would have loved, someone you would have had a GREAT future with, and you never knew what you missed out on. I could have had the perfect life with ‘Rina. Idols, lovers, heroes. But no. My timeline splits at Mt Nantai. My story ain’t any better than yours...a tale for another time, perhaps. I think we’re just about ready to rock and roll...” she checked her watch quickly, “Yyyyyyyep. I’ll let you to your...business, Marie. Good luck.”  
  
“I don’t need it,” War Marie hissed as War Pearl waved a goodbye and left through a quick portal. She readied her rifle at the slowly emerging group coming across the horizons and spilling out of Kettles. Full magazine. Set scope. She was ready, “That freak ain’t gettin’ out of this Canyon alive.”  
  
===  
  
Aldus stared at his new hand, mechanical in nature and covered in black metal. He gave it a twiddle and clenched it into a fist, a look of satisfaction spread across his face. The Canyon was just as he remembered it when he infiltrated it to take on that infernal Charger, the one that really kicked this off. And now, with the crown of the now-dead Octo King placed firmly upon his head, he would take back the land that had been promised to him and his ancestors so long ago. He looked around, watching Octarians of all sorts mill around him. Some Elites, some standards, even some of the heavier ones. Ready to take back the city above.  
  
An Octarian approached him and saluted with his tentacle, “Sir Aldus! Operations are taking hold in the Canyon! We’ve taken back all that Agent Four took from us, we’re back to full strength.”  
  
Aldus grinned, “Perfect. In the absence of Octavio, bless him, I will finish what he started and push our forces back into the city. We will take it by force. See if those Inklings like living in a shanty town like we do...”  
  
“Absolutely, sir!” The Octarian nodded, “Now for the final area, Tentakeel Outpost! We have sent scouts to confirm its emptiness...radio silence from them, however. We have decided to attack in overwhelming numbers,” Aldus nodded and the platoon walked into the Outpost proper. They didn’t get very far before they saw the remains of the scouts. What was left of them, anyway. They were lying in the Outpost, dead, drenched in ink and sporting holes in their heads. The Octarian looked spooked, “Wh...what on earth happened here? Who killed them? WH-”  
  
BANG! He exploded, leaving only his little legs to flop to the floor. Aldus grunted in shock and ducked for cover. More infernal bangs cracked and whipped the air, faint trails leading to impact points. The Octarians were running left and right, desperate for cover. But there was none. There had been debris, scrap, piled high to wall off any escapes. This was no ordinary ambush, it was a shooting gallery. A deathtrap. Aldus looked up to see Octarians drop left right and centre, all with massive holes in their heads. There as a deft pause between every shot, enough for any Octo to deem himself safe, before he too was shot and flopped to the floor missing most of their head.  
  
“What the...” Aldus slowly got to his feet, “Who’s dropping all my men!? Octarians, any left alive, REPORT!”  
  
“Charger fire from afar, sir!” another Octo cried out, running in circles, “But this ain’t like any Charger we’ve seen yet! Where’re the trails of ink? WHAT’S WITH ALL THIS BRASS?!” BLAM! He fell too.  
  
Aldus erupted from cover and stormed towards the Cuttlefish Cabin, “WHAT THE HELL IS...” He stopped. He saw the large tower composed of scrap standing before him. He could see someone in the tower. His demeanour turned oddly smug, “Oooooh. I see…”  
  
Another bullet clipped him in the shoulder. He screamed in pain briefly, a spurt of red ink spilling from his wound as he was pushed to the floor by the sheer force of the projectile. Another bullet slammed into his remaining hand, exploding it. He screamed again. Another in his leg, then his torso. A few more in his torso for good measure. He was no longer screaming, he was laughing in demented agony. His breathing was shivered as the shots finally stopped, and the attacker dropped from the tower before walking over to him. He knew exactly who it was. He had been waiting for this.  
  
“Hello, Aldus...” War Marie kept for the fancy tone up for all of a few seconds before her scowl returned, “All this time, I thought I killed her by accident. I thought I was a monster...” she kneeled beside him and pulled out the revolver, pointing it at him, “But now I know, I was your damn pawn, all along! YOU MADE ME KILL HER!! I-”  
  
“Yes, yes, yes, yes...” Aldus grumbled, seemingly almost bored with his untimely demise, “It was all my plan, really. Octavio took well to it. I had no motive, I didn’t want the throne, not really. Still got it when you killed him on live TV, of course...” he chuckled, “I just wanted what was best for my people. Take revenge on those who wronged our entire race. How quickly that shifts, huh? Well, go on, then...” grabbing the barrel of the gun, he held it over his chest, “Make it clean. Or…” he moved it to his forehead, “Make it messy. I don’t care. I’ve won...” he removed his shades with a final chuckle, “WE’VE won.”  
  
Black eyes. Yellow, black eyes. Like War Marina. He was...one of THEM. War Marie screamed in fury and fired her revolver. It’s shot was quieter than the thunderous crack of the Widowmaker, but it was still a obscene sound. Aldus jerked as the bullet flew through his brains, splatting it across the floor, and then he went still. His smug, victorious smile still plastered across his face.  
  
All went silent. There was no-one in the Canyon now, except for War Marie. The remains of Aldus slowly twitching and gurgling before her. A wave of some wretched sort of peace washed over here. It was done. The threat was truly...exterminated. She looked up into the sky, a single tear running down her cheek, ” I did it, Cal...I did it for you...”  
  
“Did you, though?”  
  
War Marie stopped. That voice...no, it couldn’t be! She turned, craning her neck up to see the spirit she knew was floating before her. It was Callie, ghost form and all, before her! She hadn’t seen her since she turned! Only now she looked...miserable. Genuinely unhappy. Like all the joy in her life was gone. She even had a few shades of anger baked into her frown.  
  
War Marie gibbered, twin hearts beating, “C...Callie?”  
  
“Is that...is this what you’ve become, Cuz?” Callie asked sombrely, “I thought you set out on all this to prove you weren’t a murderer…”  
  
War Marie was taken back, what was she saying?! She looked forward desperately, “C-Cal! It's different now! I did it, I avenged you! The monster who caused all this suffering is gone!”  
  
“Then why’re you still here?” Callie said darkly. War Marie already knew where this was going, and she felt like she was going to be sick. No...no, this WASN’T going to go the way she was thinking. It couldn’t! Callie wailed again after a horrible pause, “...You wanna know WHY I joined the Octarians, Marie? Because I wanted to hear ‘em out. I wanted to give them a chance, when the city didn’t wanna! ‘Cause of some stupid contest. I wanted to see the good side of this ‘evil team’...but then, it’s not an Octoling standing there with a gun in her hands, is it?”  
  
“CALLIE PLEASE!” War Marie begged, “You don’t understand, I HAD to do this! Who do you think he would’ve gone after next, huh?! Gramps? Agent 3? How do you think they’d feel if they had to go through WHAT I HAD TO?! Please...don’t turn your back on me again. I never got to make up the first time! I...” she grabbed her head in pain. The full brunt of her actions cascaded down upon her, all at once, “I’ve driven everyone away. I’m all alone now! I NEED YOU!”  
  
“...I know.”  
  
She slowly vanished, fading into the ether, the same look of miserable disappointment on her face. Panic ran rampant through War Marie’s systems as she rushed forward, a foolhardy plan to embrace the ghost running though her head. She screamed in fear;  
  
“Callie no! CALLIE NO! CALLIE-”  
  
She was gone. War Marie twisted and collapsed on the ground, right where the spirit had vanished. She was truly, forever gone. Even her spirit had abandoned her. Never got to say sorry, never got to say how much she meant to her. Tears pricked her eyes, then trailed out in streams as War Marie curled inwards and sobbed pitifully into her knees.  
  
She was alone. Truly, totally, alone.  
  
She was left for mere minutes, stewing in her hatred and sorrow, until the ghastly winds from the night before whipped up again. She looked up, so very done with this, and the portal howled back into life. Those two stepped out of it again, War Marina holding a sort of radar dish attached to a pistol grip, and War Pearl holding two gems; one blue and one red, both glowing brightly with a steel band in the middle of them.  
  
“Well dang!” War Marina exclaimed, almost proudly, “She really gone and did it! Hot damn maybe Inkos ARE monsters after all!”  
  
War Marie’s expression changed into a pained snarl. Of course, she was still one of THEM. She missed one...better go get it. She stomped towards the two, rifle in hand, chambering a bullet as she went. War Marina showed no fear, nor anything else, as the Squidster clambered towards her. She simply switched on the radar dish, a soft hum filling the room. War Marie shoved the barrel of the gun in her face, pulled the trigger...  
  
Click.  
  
War Marie looked down at her gun in confusion? The hell? Was that was a dud? Rechambering the rifle she tried again. Click. Another rechamber. Click. Again. Click. AGAIN. CLICK.  
  
“Well, look at that, ‘Rina,” War Pearl said smugly, “Gunpowder Nullification field to stop the bullets. You Tacticians really do think of everything!” Eventually, War Marie ran out of busted bullets. She threw her gun across the area, screaming like a tantrumming child, and flopped to the floor in a similar style. War Pearl chuckled, “There we go. Better now? The perp who caused you all this grief is now dead on the floor, by your hands. How d’ya feel? Hollow?”  
  
“Y-Yeah…” War Marie whimpered, her voice hollow and her vision clouded with tears.  
  
“Heh,” War Pearl scoffed, “Vengeance, eh? Always cool, until someone actually does it. Then they notice just how painful it really is. It leaves you feeling so...empty, inside. Well, for you, maybe.”  
  
“I don’t understand...you say all this garbage, but...what’s your real plan?!”  
  
“Revenge on Inklingkind,” War Pearl said stoically, “Making them suffer for all of the pain and misery their kind has put upon me! And her, of course.”  
  
“Yeah, you don’t understand how much ah wanna put the hurt on them Inkos for mocking me for losing MAH Pearlie!” War Marina slurred drunkenly, waving a bottle of the foul liquid around, “They HATED ME! Just because ah wasn’t like you. Well, that’s gonna be different, when ah get MAH way!”  
  
“And before you do the whole “I ain’t working for you no more!” thing, lemme put it straight,” War Pearl bent forward, her tone mocking and cold, “We made a deal, remember? I show you where the real cause of all your pain is hiding...and you work for me in return when he’s dead...” she edged closer to War Marie’s despairing face, “You. Are. MINE. I’m sure we’ll get along great.”  
  
“Pack what you can and we’ll come get ya before they send the torches and pitchforks,” War Marina babbled, dragging the Squidster to her feet, “We’ll show you our new space tomorrow. Then we’ll get right to the killin’! Heh heh.”  
  
“I...” War Marie stopped. Her spirit deflated, the last of her shattered resolve broken. All of the consequences, they all flushed upon her at once, and she was no longer angry. No longer emotional. Only hollowness remained. She stammered out, “Okay.”  
  
“Heh. I feel this is but the start of a lovely work relationship,” War Pearl sighed happily. She went to grab the rifle, dusted it off, then handed it back to War Marie, pointing to the grate behind them, “Now go on, there’s a good girl.”  
  
Bereft of hope, the Squidster turned and stumbled home, taking the rifle and solemnly sliding down the grate back to the Square. The two still stood in the Outpost for a little while more, War Marina shuddering as the messy remains of her fellow Octoling, crumpled and bleeding on the ground. She turned to War Pearl and tapped her shoulder, “Don’t you got a backup plan or somethin’?”  
  
“I’m sorry?”  
  
“Ah mean...what’s stopping her from having a change a’ heart?” War Marina asked, slightly fearful, “You SAW how close she was to...you know.”  
  
“Oh don’t worry, I thought of that, too,” War Pearl chuckled, “After all, this team is but a group of three, right now. We’re missing someone. And we’re just in time to pick them up...” She held up one of the glowing crystals, “Time to move on.”  
  
“Where we goin’?”  
  
“SPLAT-37...” War Pearl said, before striking the two gems together. The portal howled back to life before them, “To the St. Anemone Insane Asylum.”  
  
“Well, at least SOMEONE got the help they need!” War Marina grumbled. The two stepped into the gloopy portal, and vanished without a trace.  
  
 **===**  
  
The rain bore down on the Squidster, barrelling into her hair, her skin. But it didn’t affect her. It didn’t hurt her. Not anymore.  
  
She had stumbled out of the Plaza; weary, caked in ink and dirt. It was still night, but enough people were around. Those who had given her strange, angry looks as she passed by, some knowing of her, some fearful of her. She knew some people were calling the police on her location as she thought those very words. She didn’t care. There was already police coming to her apartment, anyway. Everyone knew where it was. She’d be arrested by morning. Shipped off to prison. Or worse. As if there could be worse than this.  
  
The damp streets, soaked with rain and trash, there was a sort of wondrous shine to their awfulness. Neon signs advertising stuff the sort of back-alley stuff that the Plaza nor the Square would ever consider keeping within them; drugs, alcohol, weapon ‘mods’, Cod knows what else. The bright pink and blue glows added to the hazy nature of the streets, almost as one had taken drugs already. For the broken War Marie, everything coalesced into a blur, bright colours and dank blackness mixing together to create truly sickening combinations.  
  
War Marie’s shattered mind was slowly numbing to the world around her. The drive to keep going, the drive to make the Octolings pay. It was gone. Her revenge was complete...but her cousin was still dead. Her spirit hated her. The city wanted her gone. All of the strains of days without real sleep or food or water crushed her. She was footsore, tired, hungry, thirsty, her eyes were a special sort of bloodshot and a silver of stale dribble ran down her ajar lips. Why was she still alive, to continue this pained existence? Why her? Why couldn’t she take the fall instead of someone she cared so deeply about.  
  
And yet, a small smattering of resilience kept her going. Kept her upright. She struggled across the streets, mumbling weakly to herself, “M-Must keep going...must...”  
  
She stopped. She looked up at a familiar magenta glow. It was an old sign, kept in the city from years back as a sort of memento, perhaps now a memorial. A neon sign advertising the fated, fatal Splatfest; Callie vs Marie. A standing testament to everything Marie was...and everything she had lost. She heard it, a final wail from the despondent spirit;  
  
‘Maybe Gramps was right about the octos...maybe we’re so similar...we both become monsters with our backs to the wall.’  
  
Her resolved collapsed. Whatever strings was keeping her upright were cut. “...Ffffffuck this...” War Marie whined. She stumbled forward for a final step, then twisted and collapsed on the cold, wet pavement. She looked up a final time at the sign with a despairing wheeze, then slumped to the cobblestone.  
  
The Squidster lay there, bereft of movement, for a good while. And then, out of the shadows, came a very mysterious man indeed. He was taller than the average Inkling, covered in dark brown fur with multiple spikes protruding out of the back of his head in a vague mockery of hair. He wore a red beanie, black shirt, blue ragged jacket, combat boots and a large woollen scarf that wrapped around his face and chest. Fingerless gloves, black-rim glasses, his eyes capturing the same wretched sheen as Marie’s; black and red. And finally, stuffed in a holster, an ancient blade glowing a faint red.  
  
“ _Oh wow, she is a LOT smaller than I thought she would be..._ ” the blade spoke, its voice full of smarm, “ _She barely reaches your stumpy little height!_ ”  
  
“Blade...” the creature spoke back, his tone gruff and strained.  
  
“ _Ahh come on, Traveller. We’ve been outta the game for a while, let me have some fun!_ ”  
  
“Now now, Blade, I let you roam around during my retirement...”  
  
“ _You kept me in a box for two years._ ”  
  
“Apart from that!” Traveller snapped back. He stared down at the body, a weary sigh escaping his clothed fangs, “So...is this her?”  
  
“ _The one I talked to, yeah,_ ” Blade said with a vague hint of pride, “ _Miss Marie Cuttlefish. Now a Warmonger! Just like you._ ”  
  
“Great. ‘Cause I wanted a legacy out of this...” Traveller turned her over and stared at the Inkling. He wasn’t totally sure of what these...creatures normally wore. But it wasn’t stuff this dark and brooding. He should have known what this signified. He too wore that curse like a badge. He sighed, “I wouldn’t wish this condition on anyone. I don’t want them to spread like this.”  
  
“ _Well, too late kid,_ ” Blade sighed too, “ _They’re everywhere now. I can feel ‘em spread across the realms. All sorts of new Types. Sometimes I wonder if that dragon got off easy. Well...the second time, she did._ ”  
  
Traveller checked Marie’s chest and lips, “...Still breathing. Just. How long has she kept this up?” he pondered, before he scooped her up in his arms and carried her like a bride, “No matter. Come on, let’s get her home before someone comes along, finds her conked out and-”  
  
“ _Yeah, before someone takes advantage of it, I know._ ”  
  
Traveller stared deep into her face. A look of twisted calm was now splashed across it. A disturbed sleep. A haunted normal. Traveller sniffled a little at the sheer pity he felt for this innocent woman, “...She didn’t deserve this, Blade.”  
  
“ _None of those squid things did. But that’s the torch we carry now. Let’s hope one of the poor bastards who get this plague use it for good, eh?_ ”  
  
Traveller said nothing. He softly shuffled into the night, the limp squidling hanging loosely in his arms as the trio were softened into melody by the thunder of the rain.


	10. Fresh Start

That morning, the violent chanting of a mob brought the distraught Squid to her senses. War Marie grumbled as she awoke, pulling herself to her feet and scratching her backside a little. Where was she? Oh...she was in her apartment? That was weird. She was sure she passed out miles from her home, somewhere in the city. How was she here? Anyone finding her conked out in the street surely would have...well, best not to dwell on that. There was a pounding headache somewhere in her mess of a head. And yet, she felt...a little better this morning. Like some weird burden had lifted and she was feeling clearer. Still had that weird grump to her, though. She looked around the room; the apartment was unrecognisable by this point, just trash and a single surviving couch. She got to her feet, ambling over to the balcony, and she threw open the curtains to look down on the crowd gathering in the streets. Inkling and Octoling alike, some clad in Agent gear, some without, all braying at her door and below her. Angry, oblivious of Finn’s deception. Wanting her head.

War Marie sighed. Could she even blame them anymore? After everything she did, perhaps she truly was a monster. For the whole week she had tried to deny it. But this was different. This was a special type of insanity by this point. A puppet on someone else’s strings. Felt weird, to say the least. She looked down upon the angry crowd. Wouldn’t be long before they stormed the apartment and broke down her door. That’s what she’d do. How long would it take, like, half an hour before they managed to get through? That blue-eyed gremlin better make good on her promise, Marie was pondering. She could hear people down below;

“MONSTER!”

“MURDERER!!!”

“Yeah...” War Marie sighed as she turned to pack, “Ain’t that the truth now?”

===

It took about 25 minutes for War Pearl and War Marina to reappear again through the ridiculously loud portal. She could hear the roar of the mob, just about, over the roar of the blue portal. War Marie was sure she packed everything - clothes, toothbrush, phone, all the essentials she could pack. The rest, well that could burn, destroy the last of the old Marie. Put her to rest forever.

“Y’all ready to go, girl?” War Marina asked.

“Yep,” War Marie shrugged her reply, “I ain’t got nothing left here anyway. Let’s go before they knock the door down.”

“Heh...the Agency. Somehow their failures to save those we love unites us,” War Pearl mused, “Alright! After me, ladies.”

The two stepped through the portal, and War Marie followed suit. The most indescribable feeling washed over her mind and body, swirling her around like the goop tunneling through a lava lamp. All was bright blue, all was black blobs circling an endless void, back and forth through muffled ethereal moans. It felt like moving through syrup, every movement was slow and clogged. War Marie struggled through, her brain and stomach taking a battering from the eldritch sights and sounds, before finally, she strained to the other side of the realm and pushed through the other portal. She stumbled forward and leaned over, trying to catch her breath. The other two were already there, no worse for wear than before.

“Woah...that was...a trip...” War Marie said wearily, a heavy feeling in her stomach, “Excuse me-” she leaned over and vomited heavily, grisly red ink splashing across the ground.

“Yeah, that’s gonna happen the first few times, hun,” War Marina sighed, walking over and rubbing her back softly, “Takes some gettin’ used to.”

“It’ll pass,” War Pearl said coldly, handing War Marie an apple. She didn’t complain - first time she had decent food in a while. War Pearl stepped back and posed in a rather showmanship like manner, “Anyway, welcome to my base!”

War Marie looked around her, crunching the apple as she did so. Mmm, that was a GOOD apple. Anyway, the area was loud. Spacious. And very...damp. This room was large, stone lining every wall and ceiling, an archway of cobblestone leading into a corridor off to the side. Steel walkways lined the upper parts of the room, while they were standing on stone passageways built either side of what appeared to be a river. Wooden crates were stacked behind them, wooden pallets floating in the water. A rushing water sound brought the whole scene into view, better than the dim green-ish lighting ever could.

“It...it’s a sewer...” War Marie observed, turning to War Pearl with a confused and angry snarl, “It’s a fffffffuckin’ sewer!”

“The last place someone would think to look for us,” War Pearl tapped the side of her head, “The one place those ink-humpers would never go to.”

“’Cause it’s like trying to find a meatbag in a volcano base,” War Marie snarked.

“Indeed,” War Pearl said, either oblivious or playing along, War Marie wasn’t sure, “Now, let me show you to your area!”

War Pearl turned and walked down the corridor, followed by the other two. The rushing water was daring to nip at their feet, though only War Marina in her low shoes had to actively avoid stepping in it. Both War Marie and War Pearl wore thick leather boots, they could stand to stomp in the waters for a bit. The cobblestone arches and walls continued on for seemingly miles, dotted by light fixtures and grated off areas. They passed a large expanse with a number of small “islands” poking out of the water, a corridor leading off to the left and a doorway to dry land in the corner. They dodged the floating crates and pallets before War Marie spoke again;

“So Pearl, uh...do you know anything else about Warmongers?”

“Not a whole lot, still gotta do the research,” War Pearl shrugged, “Just enough to know I’m special and you’re...less so. NOW before you get offended, I mean by the fact I’m an Apex, and you’re a Drone. Red eyes, you know? Strong, though.”

“...That DOES explain a lot...” War Marie shrugged. The three finally stopped after going through the doorway. It was a fairly large area, obviously used by those who used to work in the sewers time untold ago as a recreational area. It had a TV on cinder blocks, a games console with two controllers - and old model, War Marie managed to notice - and some lockers in the back. But the walls off to the side were covered in gun racks, and upon which were many more human guns of all types and sizes, with ammo in boxes off to the side.

“Anyway, here’s your armoury. Guns go here...” she pointed to the guns, then to the racks of ammo, “And ammo goes here. Good place to do some maintenance, you know? I’ll set up a firing range...well, when I’ve got the resources for it.”

War Marie was silent for a few seconds, in confusion and in awe, “Where the ffffuck did you find all this?”

“Y’all don’t wanna know,” War Marina burbled between sips of her drink, “...Probably. We all got our little areas, you know. Mine is a workshop! And...distillery.”

“After me,” War Pearl silently cackled, leading the others deeper into the complex. They followed more caverns with water flowing through them, eventually reaching an area that had more substantial things to stand on. Sort of a meeting room, as it were. A throne was place in the middle of the room in a rather dramatic way. On a podium and all. War Marie only needed a single guess as to who that throne belonged to. War Pearl turned, “Now, Marie. As a little, uh...basewarmin’ party, I have a gift for you! Lemme go get it. You will NOT be disappointed, I promise!”

War Pearl turned and walked down one of the corridors, this one with a label upon it; “Bedrooms”. Nice to know there was SOMEWHERE to sleep in this muck. This left the Inkling and the Octoling alone, and air became tense rather quickly. War Marina looked around idly, clearing her throat every now and then, while War Marie pulled out her revolver and checked the cylinder. Empty. Obviously, she HAD emptied its rounds into Aldus the night before.

“...Soooo...” War Marina broke the silence at last, “How ya do-”

“Do NOT talk to me,” War Marie spat venom back, “As far as I’m concerned you’re just another of one of them.”

War Marina was silent for a few seconds, but soon snapped back, clearly offended, “Well if y’all wanna be COMPLETELY honest ah consider you onn’a THEM too,” she looked down awkwardly, rubbing her arm, “Mah Marie, she...she was an awful gal. Gave me no sympathy for losin’ mah little Pearlie. Had the same hang-ups you did. But she sorta...changed. Saw the ‘bright side’. How quickly some people change their tune the moment someone comes along to knock ‘em down a peg, ‘uh?”

“I guess...” War Marie sighed, a barrage of horrific thoughts coming to her.

“Cheer up, Marie,” War Marina sighed, somewhat happier this time, “This is gonna be better. We’re gonna be a big ol’ family again! We against the world! The four’a us!”

“...Four?”

“Ta-daaaaaaaaaaa!” War Pearl said vaguely stoically, walking back into the room and gesturing to the hallway, “How’s this look, Marie? Heh heh.”

War Marie looked up at the hallway...and her jaw dropped. No, no it wasn’t possible, she thought. But it was.

It was Callie. Alive. In the flesh.

Obviously not the same Callie; her skin was paler, her tentacles darker and their famous tint a new shade of green. Clad in a dark purple ski jacket with dark pink highlights, leggings, brown leather boots. Her eyes the same black void as the others, her pupils a nice verdant. But perhaps most importantly, was her right arm - or rather, the lack thereof. It was replaced by a mechanical one, rugged and carved out of scrap. Like, there was a drinks can lodged into the forearm, and wires trailing green ink to and from the stump and wrist. It whirred occasionally, twisting this way and that, seemingly with a slight mind of its own.

But War Marie didn’t care.

“...C-Callie?”

“...Marie?”

War Marie broke out into a sprint towards the Squid Sister, and said Sister did the same.

“...CALLIE!!!”

“MARIE!!!”

They crashed into each other, sobbing, delirious...happy. Both cried, bawled, sobbed, loudly and shamelessly as they embraced, War Marie’s knees buckling under the emotional strain. It was a struggle keeping herself upright as she continued to hold her sorta-cousin like she was afraid she’d fly away. She could feel the robo-hand rigidly sift through her hair, as if Callie was attempting to stroke it. It kind of hurt. But she didn’t care.

“I thought...” War Marie gibbered breathlessly through a cloud of tears, “I thought I’d never...see you again!”

“Me n-” the assumed War Callie could barely speak, “Me neeeeeh...huuuuuuuuuuh...” She broke out in pained and painful sobs, digging her face further into the leathered shoulder of her cousin. Her own legs buckled and both fell to their knees. War Callie clung ever tighter to War Marie, her cries baleful screams into her jacket.

“D-Don’t cry, don’t cry...it’s okay...it’s okay...” War Marie whimpered, softly stroking her hair, “I got you...I-I got you...”

Meanwhile, the two other idols watched the Sisters reconcile. War Marina was sniffling herself, fanning herself with her off-hand, “Mah little ol’ hearts...” she whispered, “They can’t take it...”

War Pearl looked at the two. At her team. The War Sisters and War...Off the Hook. Or something. Perhaps The War Splats really was better. Short. Snappy. Perfect. A wide, rictus grin spread across her face, thinking of all of the fun she was going to have. She saw her Marina, still in her Elite gear, battered and deceased. The Agents before her. The prime city that caused her transformation. And now, the Inklings who were going to pay. To suffer for their sins. War Pearl looked up, a faint glimmer of a blue cloak staring from the darkness.

“You know, ‘Rin-Rin? This is gonna be the start something beautiful. I just know it.”

===

The rain was heavy in this world. Of course War Pearl would send them to a storm. Of course.

It had only been five days since joining her team. Though, she had to be fair, it was a far better five days than anything that had come since her Callie’s passing. The sleeping quarters were...well she slept in better but she certainly slept in worse. Hot food, cold drinks, plenty of free time. She just wished those two others wouldn’t be so snide and rude about...everything. If anything that was her job.

But a job was a job. She worked for War Pearl now. And her plans had a tendency to get nasty quickly. Always wanted something someone else had, and dearly. And War Marie, well she was the frontline offense to go and get it. Inkling she didn’t like? Exterminated. Technology she desired? Stolen. And all with a trail of bodies, Inko and Octo alike, in her wake. Today was no different. This world’s Captain Cuttlefish was a very special sort of evil. The sort that would make Octavio blush, War Marie pained to admit. And he and his dictatorship were very quick to make interdimensional travel. War Pearl didn’t entertain the idea of someone who might oppose them travelling realms like that.

War Marie looked to her right, rifle slung across her back, to look at her companion on this trip. It was War Callie, of course. The two had been inseparable, ever since they saw each other in those dank sewer tunnels. Would barely let each other out of their sight, except for the fairly obvious stuff, of course. War Marina once joked they were a couple, a flustered and enraged War Callie slapped her. With her robot arm. Yeah that put her out of commission for a good while. War Pearl almost didn’t mind. She thought it was funny.

Finally, they had trudged through the dark valley to get to where they needed to go. In the distance was the podium upon which the corrupt Cuttlefish sat. Dressed in dark garb and a black Cap of Legend. He was no Warmonger, though. His eyes were normal. He was just...that sort of evil. Felt weird to think that after everything. Next to their location was a sniper’s nest of sorts. This one made out of proper wood instead of the scrap back in the Canyon. They climbed and clambered onto the top. They had a good view of the proceedings. Just had to wait for the right time to fire off a shot and kill...Gramps. Not THEIR Gramps, but still.

“Marie?” War Callie asked softly, “Are you okay? You’ve been...really quiet. I don’t like it.”

War Marie snapped out of her exposition and shook her head, “I’m fine...just, kinda...I’ve killed one family member already.”

“...I mean, same, but,” War Callie tried to rationalise, “He’s...h-he’s evil. Pearl said.”

“She WOULD,” War Marie sighed harshly, “Good, evil, it’s all subjective. Told by those who want you to think there’s any meaning to those words. It’s someone you like, good, or someone they hate, evil. All you need is the right evidence. Might even come true.”

“...This is insane,” War Callie sobbed, “I don’t wanna do this. I don’t want YOU to do this!”

“It’s...what we signed up for,” War Marie sighed again, “So...might as well. I mean I don’t wanna do it either, but, do we have a choice? Our entire lives dictated by some madman in a stupid dress.”

“...Marie,” War Callie gibbered, “What did your people do to you? What did they do to us? What...are we?”

“Monsters,” War Marie said, “I mean, how’d YOU lose your arm?”

War Callie looked down solemnly, at her robot arm, twiddling it slightly, “I...don’t wanna say. Not now. Wanna...get used to this, first. I don’t wanna be evil. I want to do some good! I wanna help people...like we used to.”

“Those days are long gone, Cal,” War Marie grumbled, “You know that. We can’t go back.”

“I want to!” War Callie protested, “But, no. I’m stuck here. But I...I think I can do a whole lot of good on a team of bad. I know I can...” she looked at her arm as it glowed a vivid green, “It’s...who I am.”

War Marie looked on with interest. This Cal, she was so...different. A new type; green meant something called a “Restorator”, according to War Pearl. Well, according to that silly book she carried. Supermedics, could heal anything in an instant. But this Callie wasn’t like the one she knew. No bold nature, no energy. Almost...frail, certainly depressed. She was hollow...yet with a beating heart of hope somewhere within.

“...Look, I know this ain’t what you wanna hear, Cal,” War Marie paused, taking a final drink before throwing the bottle away, “But...you’re not MY Callie. You’ll NEVER be my Callie. You’ll never replace her, to me...but hell. You’re close enough...” she started to softly cry, placing her left hand on the ground, “Never leave me again, you hear me!?” she looked off into the distance, tears filling her eyes, “We’re...nothing without each other…”

For a while, there was only quiet. The soft patter of rain on the shelter. And then, a whirr of mechanics as War Callie placed her robot hand over hers. War Marie looked up cautiously. War Callie was looking at her. And for the first time, she was smiling.

“I know.”

And all of a sudden, everything felt warm and fuzzy inside. Like a sort of dark feeling had been lifted. Like everything was, for the briefest of moments, going to be okay. She picked her rifle back up and aimed at the fascist Cuttlefish. As long as she had Callie, she could do anything.

She fired, a violent crack whipping the sodden, clouded air. 

**The End**


End file.
